Harry Potter, Rise From Dust
by Bluezz-17
Summary: If Harry's baby brother, Daniel, is the Boy-Who-lived, then what of Harry? What is his role? Is he destined for greater? Or, is he to play a much bigger role in the future? Follow Canon's plot, with much bigger AU's plot as the story progresses.
1. Prologue, Season 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter.

**Summary: **If Harry's baby brother, Daniel, is the Boy-Who-lived, then what of Harry? What is his role? Is he destined for greater? Or, is he to play a much bigger role in the future? Followed Canon's plot, with much bigger AU's plot as the story progresses further. Harry will be a different person and his nemesis will not be Voldemort. He is three years older than in the canon's, older brother to the Boy-Who-lived. There will be also a major twist in the canon's plot. This story is inspired by Harry and the Veela by z-bond. I twisted it into my own story.

**Warning: **This Harry Potter is a complete different person from Harry Potter in the canon! You can say that this is 'my Harry' and no, I'm not trying to use Harry Potter name. Some foolish reviewer claimed that I was trying to get more fame by using famous name like Harry Potter. I don't know if the reviewer is jealous of me, or just born idiot. I had no idea why he/she bashed me when **clearly** there's many other authors had done so before me.

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><p><strong>...~[]oOo[]~...<strong>

**Harry Potter, Rise From Dust. (Season 1)**

**...~[]oOo[]~...**

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><p><span><strong>Prologue.<strong>

**31 July 1977.**

A woman in one of St' Mungo's Hospital rooms was weeping in pain. She struggled to preserve her consciousness. The man next to her was attempting as best he could to calm the woman down, and encouraged her. She panted from exhaustion, her body was wrecked. Mustering her final ounce of strength, she took one last huge breath and pushed her baby out of her body. The shrieking cries indicated a new life had been born. She smiled through her exhaustion, and the man beside her, grinned ecstatically.

Though she was losing consciousness rapidly, it was not enough to prevent her from seeing her baby and desiring to embrace him. As soon as the healers finished her delivery, they obliged to her wishes. They handed the baby into her outstretched arms once he was cleaned. The man next to her lent her his aid as she struggled to reach out for the baby. Her face exploded with happiness, smiling so brightly. She forgot her fatigue when she watched the sleeping form of her baby.

"Congratulations, Ms. Evans, on a healthy baby boy. May I add, a beautiful baby as well," the healer said with a smile. "What are you going to name him?"

Lily Evans exchanged a look with the man before shifting her attention back to the healer with a smile. "Harry. Harry James Potter."

The healer smiled, nodding her head. In subsequent to it, she left the couple alone to spend time with their newborn.

For a while, silence was the only thing in the room. All of a sudden, Lily called out to the man, "James..."

"Hmm..." James Potter wasn't really paying attention to the woman, too distracted holding one of his son's tiny hands.

"You asked me a question last night and my answer is yes." That snatched the man's attention.

"Really? Are you serious? You're not kidding, are you? If this is one of Sirius's pranks, I swear I'm going to get him back. But you're not joking, are you? If you really are, I'm going to have a severe heart attack. Luckily we're in St. Mungo's right now."

Lily chortled at his anxiousness, shaking her head tiredly. Little by little, a large grin swiped across James's mouth. He had never felt so happy in his life. Not only had he just become a father, but the very same night the woman he loves, agreed to marry him. He couldn't help but to dance happily.

The sound of someone yawning captured the attention of both adults. James swiftly rushed to Lily's side. They watched expectantly as their son gradually fluttered his eyes open and caught his first sight of his parents. What they saw that instant made them breathless as a pair of bright beautiful emerald eyes gazed back at them.

"Lily, he has your eyes!" James joyfully proclaimed. "Look, he has your eyes!"

"Yes, but his are much more alluring than mine... He's so beautiful, James..." Lily kissed the baby's forehead, hugging him lovingly.

"My son is going to be a ladies' man when he grows up. Sirius will be so proud!"

"James! I'm not going to let you or his godfather influencing him into something like that!" Although her body was drained of energy, she was still capable of unleashing her wrath on her soon-to-be-husband.

The man cowered under her glare. "Come on, Lil. It's just a thought... Nothing wrong with that..." he chuckled nervously.

The sound of cute laughter caused both adults to look down in surprise. They were astounded to find the baby was giggling at them, holding his tiny hands in the air. Their shock melted at the sound of the baby's musical laughter and both parents smiled at their son's antics. James offered his finger to his son, who grabbed his finger in both tiny hands, familiarizing himself with his father's rough skin.

"You know something, Lily? I think he's going to be a great man someday. I've never heard of a baby who laughed on the day he was born. I've got this feeling that he's going to do great things in the future..." James wiggled his finger in the baby's hands, eliciting another giggle from the fragile soul.

"Yes, he will," Lily agreed. "Someday he will, James..."

The couples were oblivious to notice they were not alone. An eerie glow, patch of shimmering gray light latched at the corner of the ceiling, and beneath the glow, some kind of otherworldly figures can be seen. Their eyes, which held no sockets at all, fixated on the newborn baby. Before anyone knew it, a disturbing smile that screamed of horrors, wrapped around their jaws. One last longing look at the baby, they were gone…

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><p><strong>31 October 1981.<strong>

The wind howled with ferocity across the blackened sky as thunderstorm conquered the clouds. Rain poured down relentlessly over a lone man.

He had not trusted any of his followers to escort him on this imperative mission. He had to do this alone. Lord Voldemort, the self-proclaimed Dark Lord of Wizardry, marched with authority toward his target. The Potter's secret keeper had revealed to him the location of where they lay hidden. Normally, he would ignore such child, reflecting it to not be a threat, though currently he was doing against such thought.

It was not his will to begin with, but rather, the will of others.

With a wave of his wand, the door exploded. A high-pitch screech shattered his thoughts. Without looking, he soundlessly cast a dark curse in the girl's direction, decapitating her. Looking over the body, his lips curled downward. The body didn't belong to that mudblood. The Potter's weren't here. Boiling in rage, he screamed, permitting a huge flow of magic to destroy every bit of his surroundings.

With a swish of his wand, the disapparation ward fell. Just as he was about to flee, cries of a baby emanated from the upper level of the house. Voldemort moved to the staircase, scurrying to it. There, at the last door, was a voice soothingly telling the baby to be quiet. He blasted the door open, causing a small boy to jolt in surprise. Red eyes stared with interest at the crib, though what fascinated him most was the small boy, no more than four years old, gazing at him with fierce emerald eyes.

"Do you not fear me, boy?" Voldemort hissed in a dark voice.

"No, you're just a big meanie!"

Voldemort's eyes flashed in amusement. "Ah, how I've forgotten the delightful experience of being a child, so fearless and innocent-like. People say I do not have an ounce of mercy in my heart, however, all of that are falsely lies, so as to spread fear to my enemies. I do not kill children nor do I torture them, but your brother is an exception. So I ask you to stand aside, boy! It is not you who I after!"

"No! Don't touch my brother!" the boy shouted.

"Very well, if you desperately wish to defend your brother, then I suppose you shall die by his side. Nonetheless, I need to deal with him first, so be gone for now!" With a wave of his wand, the boy flew behind the crib, hitting the wall so hard. The man glanced into the crib, spotting a crying child no more than a year old. "At long last, I have found you. I do not know why 'they' insist in ordering me to kill you, but this has to be done, one way or another. Farewell, Daniel Potter. Rest assured I will make this painless." Leveling his wand, he summoned his magic. "_Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry Potter helplessly watched the scene unfold before him. He'd made a promise to his mother before his parents left that he would protect his brother no matter what. Struggling to remain conscious, he gathered every scrap of strength with one thought, he must protect his brother. He closed his eyes tightly and grounded both hands into tight fists. Clenching his jaws, he gritted his teeth together and something tingled inside Harry. Golden light began to envelop his brother's body, sparkling fiercely. It halted the killing curse just before it reached his brother.

The man's eyes were wide in shock, never before had he stumbled upon such magic. He believed the baby had created such a thing, having not notice the sweating form behind the crib. Sweat poured over Harry in his effort to stop the killing curse. The baby cried more at all the ruckus, and as fate entwined both brothers, the baby unconsciously poured all of his magic into the golden shield. By this sudden turnabout, the shield miraculously converted into the color of white before deflecting the rest of the curse back to the Dark Lord.

An ear-piercing scream erupted from the cottage, followed by the cries of Daniel Potter. Bit by bit, the snake-faced man was ripped to pieces, replaced by a pile of black ashes. Not a single living body was there to witness the shrouded shape disintegrate into emptiness.

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><p>James and Lily Potter had been called by Dumbledore to an emergency meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. They had attended in hopes of getting some more information in relation to the safety of their children, as well as the end of the war. But right in the middle of it, they were interrupted by Sirius barging in, panic written all over his face as he spouted nonsense in his inane babble. It took several minutes to settle him down, enough for them to understand he was yelling that Pettigrew was not in attendance at the meeting, nor did he show any sign of struggle or having been kidnapped.<p>

Both parents swallowed uneasily, praying Pettigrew had not defected and joined Voldemort. Nonetheless, when Dumbledore confirmed that someone unwanted had entered their hidden place, they knew it to be true. After Apparating to their residence, everyone stared in horror at the fire blazing through the house. Dumbledore immediately commanded everyone to cast _Aguamenti_ in order to put out the seemingly uncontrollable flames.

Ignoring the other members, both parents sprinted into the house. Dumbledore and a few others followed, casting _Aguamenti_ all the way. A feeling of dread surfaced as they caught sight of the girl the Potter's had assigned to watch over their children, lying in front of them without a head. Lily, sobbing by now, dashed upstairs to find her boys. Without wasting any time, the others pursued her.

That was when they came across a very strange sight.

Before them lay the ashen form of something resting on the floor, a crying baby, and a cataleptic form that was still breathing. Relief ignited in all of them. The parents rushed to Daniel to inspect his injuries while the others flew to the unconscious boy. They then moved over frantically to satisfy their concern regarding whether or not her eldest son was breathing. A few minutes after they had left the collapsing house, Madam Pomfrey came over to verify their conditions.

She noted that the eldest son had suffered damage only to his left arm, which she deemed the primal reason for his loss of consciousness. She never realized that the true reason for his being knocked out had been his exhaustion from using too much magic. As Madam Pomfrey declared Daniel Potter had lost the majority of his magic, but was able to retain consciousness. Dumbledore walked over to the baby, held by Lily, and moved a strand of red hair away from his face. There, on his forehead, was a lightning bolt scar, blood still trickling over its features.


	2. Chapter 1, Season 1

**Chapter 1.**

**31 July 1982.**

A solitary figure concealed his presence from the others. Everyone was smiling, laughing, and talking. He watched as his father presented his little brother to everyone with a huge grin. His mother stood by his father's side, emitting in happiness. Everyone clapped their hands, cheering at the sight of the Boy-Who-Lived. At least, that was what they were so fond of calling him…

Silent tears glistened on the older brother's cheeks, whose birthday was on the exact same day. How ironic that he had once thought this was a good thing. Wouldn't it be fun for siblings to celebrate their mutual birthday together? But as of this day, he began to see it as an unfortunate twist of fate. It seemed not a single person at the party recalled his birthday was the same as their precious savior's. Not even their parents. The eldest brother often wished that his parents were different than any of them.

He had been looking forward to his fifth birthday, and had been very excited when he woke up that morning. But all that silly hope had collapsed to the ground. How naive he had been. All he wanted was for his parents to remember him, especially his mother. He craved her warmth, like every child does, wanting desperately for his mother to hug him and smile at him. Only him. His thoughts came crashing back to reality as the party-goers sang his brother the birthday song.

Slowly, he withdrew from the stair's railing and moved to the end of the room. Entering, he shut the door silently. The voices outside still echoed in his eardrums. He climbed to his bed, unafraid of the darkness because of the moonlight shining through his window. It appeared to him, the stars were shining just a little brighter tonight. He wished himself a happy birthday in a hush tone. And then, he pulled the covers over his head and dozed to sleep.

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><p><strong>19 June 1991.<strong>

Harry woke up, at a snail's pace. Shoving his bangs out of his eyes, he stretched his hands and yawned. He comfortably buried his face into the pillow he conjured. He was alone in the empty compartment, having a wonderful nap. The train was returning to King's Cross station for the beginning of the summer. His eyes fixed on the window, gazing with indifference at the passing trees, stones, and grass. His thoughts floated off to space.

Harry could hardly believe he still remembered his fifth birthday.

Ever since that fateful day, he had resolved to show his parents how sadly mistaken they had been neglecting their eldest son. Cynically, he supposed he had to thank them for that. If it hadn't been for them, his five-year-old mind could not have developed such mature thoughts. Of course, he had several others to thank in that regard, such as his so-called godfather, who couldn't be bothered to perform his duty because he was too busy doting on Harry's younger brother instead. The same went for his werewolf of an uncle, they were all the same.

Bunch of pathetic fools they were. If he could, he would have deserted that place he called 'home' long ago and drifted to some serene place by himself, Of course, he was merely thirteen, going on fourteen, and this was only the end of his third year. The doors to his compartment snapped unlocked, sliding open to break his thoughts. Harry glanced at the door. His apparently half-closed eyes locked onto those of a four girls in his year, all in the process of becoming woman, good-looking woman.

"Told ya he'd be here. Never doubt me, girls," a girl with short, spiky hair declared smugly, the red orbs in her eyes shining enthusiastically.

"Whatever, Gryffindor. Now move, you're in the way," another voice erupted from a gorgeous blond girl. She shoved the perky looking girl out of the way, entered the compartment, and sat down across from Harry. She crossed her arms and silently stared at Harry with her light green eyes.

"Hey!" the perky looking girl grumbled. "All snakes are the same, damn it."

"Enough is enough. Let's just go inside before anyone comes to see what's the ruckus is about. And mind your language, please."

This time the gentle voice came from a face Harry knew quite well. She had dim blue hair, medium length, and her azure eyes shone intelligently. She could never be found without a book in her hand. The other two obeyed, and took a seat. The final girl who hadn't yet spoken was scarlet headed, and offhandedly gestured to Harry's feet, wordlessly asking his permission to sit. Harry lifted his feet off the compartment bench and tossed them to the ground. The girl bit her lips at Harry's look of annoyance, her gold-yellowish eyes dancing warily. She sat down, not seeming to mind how close their bodies were.

"What?" Harry snapped, not liking the way every eye in the room rested on him. "You want me to congratulate you for working on house unity?"

"Don't be such a jerk, Potter," Daphne Greengrass, the blond, remarked. "You shouldn't be hostile to your guests."

Harry lifted an eyebrow at her attitude before shifting his attention back out the window.

"Harry, we were worried about you," the girl with the blue hair, Callista Campbell, spoke softly.

"Yeah, we looked through every compartment. Do you know how tiring that is? We almost got hexed by the upper years for barging into their compartments." The frowning girl went by the name Regine Barberis.

"As far as I remember, I didn't ask any of you to come looking for me. So that would be your problem to deal with," Harry muttered.

Sheila Jonnet snorted, the girl with red orb eyes. "Geez, you really are in a bad mood. We were just worried, okay? Don't get all cold and angry with us. Just because you're the brother-"

"Jonnet!" Daphne hissed irately.

"Sheila, that was uncalled for." Callista glowered at the hyper girl, who shrunk under the two glares and mumbled an apology.

Regine watched Harry ignoring them. "Harry, are you alright?"

The other girls abruptly stopped their petty argument to look at Harry.

"Yeah... sorry about earlier. You girls interrupted my nap, that's all."

His tone left no room for discussion, which only made the girls want to discuss it. They all knew enough to keep their mouths shut, though, except for Sheila. She opened her mouth to speak and was immediately shot down by three glares. The next few minutes passed slowly in the intense silence swarming around the compartment. Four out of five couldn't handle the pressure, and yet the boy seemed unaffected by it. The girls spoke volumes to each other through their facial expressions.

They glared at Sheila, who was still sulking over being shut up. She always had a crazy way of doing things. Thankfully the silence in the compartment splintered when the common cart, managed by a familiar lady, passed by. She slid open the doors and asked if they needed anything.

"No sweat, I got it! My treat this time and no complaining, Callista. Being a pureblood comes with the wealth advantage, except for the Weasley's, so I don't mind." Overlooking Callista's weak dissent, Sheila sprang up and everyone forgot the awkwardness. "Let's see now... uh, five pumpkin juices, four chocolate frogs, some gum for me... Oh, and one cauldron cake for Daphne. She's not fond of chocolates."

The dimpled old witch responded with a smile of her own as she took the order. "Here you go, dear," she said kindly, tossing the items to the girls. Sheila paid with a handful of coins, and closed the compartment doors.

Sheila handed Harry a pumpkin juice and a chocolate frog. "Here you go, Harry. Whatever it is on your mind, you can share it with the rest of us when you're ready. You know we're always here for you, we wouldn't leave you to fend by yourself. You're hopeless without us to cheer you up."

A tiny smile worked its way onto Harry's face as he accepted the offering. "I'm really sorry..."

"Save it Potter. You don't have to apologize to anyone." Daphne's lips curled into a smirk, shoving a handful of cake into her mouth. "Although I do have to congratulate Jonnet on having a brain. I didn't think any Gryffindors did. And here I thought all she cared about was some pointless Quidditch."

"Hey!" Sheila exclaimed through a mouthful of gum. "You're just jealous our team beat Slytherin's, Daph. Just admit it, they couldn't possibly catch up to our score with me as a chaser!"

"But Hufflepuff won their match against Gryffindor this year," Regine cut in.

"Well that's because this year, their new seeker caught the bloody snitch before ours did. All of our seekers are weak," Sheila protested.

"Sheila, language, please."

"Sorry," she grinned sheepishly.

"Still, it doesn't change the fact that Ravenclaw won the Quidditch trophy and wiped the floor of the other teams, even without the best seeker," Callista said with a grin, unable to help herself.

Regine grumbled, grudgingly acknowledging this. "They've won three years in a row now. All because of one chaser who impossibly scores 140 in every game, all by himself. He was the youngest Quidditch player on the team, too. I mean, it's practically inhuman. You always think there must be some way to beat the guy, but nooo, he just has to be good."

Their eyes shifted the only male in the compartment. Harry chugged away his pumpkin juice, though the smirk on his mouth didn't go unseen.

"Next time I'll beat you, Potter! And next time that cup will be paraded around our common room! I'll be bragging about it until the day you die!" Sheila cried, pumping a fist in the air with determination.

"I don't mind you trying, Sheila. You can't even touch me in the sky. How in god's name you're going to beat me, I have no idea. But the best of luck to you, in any case."

"Ugh, that bloody smug attitude of his. So annoying."

"The same words like last year… You're always dreaming, Sheila. You'd have to train ten times harder than usual if you want to beat Harry, I already told you that. You know our Harry is a natural flier," Regine advised.

Sheila's eyes burned in motivation at the challenge laid at her feet. "I know that, Regine. That's why I'm training all summer."

"I agree with Regine. Ravenclaw is going to win the cup again, so don't even dream of taking it from us, Sheila. If I know you, you're only going to be even lazier this summer." Callista didn't even bother to reprimand her friends' language, her book lay forgotten on her lap.

"Stop with the Quidditch craziness, will you? You all, are making me dizzy," Daphne said, eyes twitching in annoyance when the others ignored her. "I regret ever mentioning that bloody game," she muttered, thrusting another handful of cake in her mouth. Her eyes caught Harry's side-long glance at her. "Shut up, Potter," she hissed.

He knew she had never enjoyed Quidditch. The only reason she even attended the matches was to display her support for him and Sheila.

Amused, Harry moved his gaze back to the window. "I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, and I'm my mother," she said sarcastically. She huffed, finishing the last of her cauldron cake.

Harry smiled. It was times like these he couldn't help but feel at peace with the girls' company. He knew he was very lucky to have met them during their first year, though he had no desire to admit that to anyone. The girls stayed by his side wherever he went. It was hard to find true friends when every boy at school brought up the Boy Who Lived in the middle of every conversation, asking him his thoughts on the subject and requesting autographs from his brother. When he refused to have any part in this, the other boys proclaimed him jealous of his brother's fame. It angered him every time they did that, and was in fact the very reason he pushed away his male classmates.

For the rest of the ride, each student was occupied with themselves. Daphne and Callista were engaged in their books, Regine and Sheila played exploding snap, and Harry watched the world pass by outside his window. Eventually, he drifted to sleep, eyes tiredly falling to darkness.

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><p>"Alright! We've arrived at King's Cross station!" Sheila exclaimed enthusiastically. "Next stop, Jonnet Mansion!"<p>

The train pulled to a stop, smoke bursting from its chimney.

"Must you get excited on everything, Jonnet?" Daphne grumbled.

"Don't mind her, Daphne, you know she'll never change." Callista smiled at her friend's childish antics.

"I always wonder who's been slipping her sugar. It's getting harder to control her these days. Honestly..." Harry murmured as he pulled his trunks down. A small smile cracked through his usual expression of boredom.

"Always the object of teasing." Daphne smirked.

"You'll regret that, Potter, once the Quidditch cup rests in my hands!"

Regine shook her head. "Always dreaming of beating Harry. When will you ever learn?"

They waited patiently as the students ahead of them filed slowly out of the train. They talked all the while, promising again and again to write each other.

"Oh, there's my parents! Well, I guess this is it. I'll see you guys in September," Sheila spoke. The others hushed each other, waiting expectantly for her dramatic farewell. Finally, she burst into tears. "I can't believe I won't be seeing you guys for three whole months! You better promise to write me letters!"

Regine couldn't help it, she sniffled and hugged Sheila tightly. "Don't worry, I will."

Callista stepped in, smiling as she gave Sheila a tender hug and promised to do the same. Harry stood motionless, wanting nothing to do with it and Daphne copied him. She stood her ground, rolling her eyes at Sheila's display of 'tears'.

"Come here, Harry!" Sheila dashed to him, hugging him so tightly he had to gasp for air. "You better write to me, Harry, or else!" Harry adjusted his neck, checking for any dislodged bones. Sheila then shifted her attention to Daphne, who looked mildly annoyed. She knew what was coming. In a split-second, she was engulfed in a bone-crushing hug."You'd best write to me, too, snake, and I mean it. Even though we argue all the time, you're one of my best friends. I don't care about some stupid house rivalry. Friendship is what matters."

The last three sentences came as whispers that only Daphne could hear. To say Daphne wasn't touched would be a lie. Her expression softened and she hugged her friend back tightly. "I will, Sheila..." Waving goodbye, Sheila ran to her pureblood family. She hugged her parents, and with one final wave, she disappeared through the crowd.

"Big sister!" Regine snapped her attention to the voices calling out for her. A huge smile crossed her face as she saw two little boys of five years rush over to her. She kneeled down to their level and instantly enveloped them in a hug. "We missed you, big sister!"

"Oh, I missed you, too. Ethan, Nathan, have you been good? You didn't cause trouble for Noah, did you?" She said the last part with a tone of suspicion as well as concern for her eight-year-old brother.

"Yes!" they chirped, grinning boyishly. "C'mon, papa and mama are waiting!"

Her twin brothers each tugged at her arms, leaving Regine little opportunity to say goodbye. She swiftly hugged each of her friends, thanking Harry and Daphne for their advice. Daphne waved off her now yellow handkerchief, insisting it was a parting gift.

"Another year has passed by, time slipping through our hands with each passing day. Feels like just yesterday we were annoying Madam Prince for making too much noise in our first year. It won't be long before we graduate from Hogwarts. It's too bad time passes so quickly," Callista thought out loud.

Harry and Daphne exchanged looks, cocking their eyebrows at their friend's wise words.

"Callista, you're speaking to yourself again," Daphne commented. "And for the record, we have four more years before we graduate from Hogwarts."

Callista smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that, I didn't realize."

"Your daydreaming will be the source of trouble in the near future. Best to remember that," Harry remarked, walking ahead.

"I do not daydream. You're entirely mistaken, Harry." she huffed, marching by his side.

Nonetheless, she pondered Harry's words. Daphne smirked on Harry's other side.

"Yeah, and I'm Daphne's mother," Harry retorted, causing Daphne to crack a grin.

They walked calmly through the barrier at Platform 9 3/4, glancing at the passing Muggles on the other side.

"Oh, there's my parents." Callista pointed to two adults waiting patiently for her.

Facing her two friends, Callista hugged Daphne, promising again to write letters. She moved to Harry, boldly kissing his cheek lightly. Harry's face warmed, this being the first time anyone had shown him that kind of affection. Callista simply flashed him a beautiful smile, a tint of red forming on her own cheeks. Daphne looked agitated.

"Have a good summer, Harry. If you need someone, just remember us. We're always there for you. See you two in September."

Harry nodded his head, slightly embarrassed by her previous advance. He had never obtained that kind of affection from either of his parents and it had been a very long time since he experienced those feelings. It was the same feeling Harry had acquired when Sheila hugged him - the first hug he had received in years - at the end of his first year. His heart thumped as violently as it had then. A tiny part of Harry envied the girls for having the loving parents he was denied.

A soft hand interlocked his own, disrupting his thoughts. He looked into Daphne's concerned, green eyes. "Alright?"

Harry nodded, smiling sadly. He tightened his grip on her hand, wishing for her comfort. Looking around, he hadn't spotted any of his family members. They hadn't come to pick him up. This happened every year, they merely overlooked his existence. He had been taking care of himself since he was five years old. But now, he had the girls, and that was all that mattered. Harry offered her a bright smile, which Daphne warmly returned. Her heart never failed to warm every time she saw Harry smile.

"Do you mind me using the floo at your mansion?"

Daphne's smile faltered. Every year Harry made the same request, his only way to return home.

"No, come on. Mother will be thrilled to have your company. Father can burn some steam talking Quidditch with you like usual, and Astoria can keep ogling her crush. They're over at the same corner as last year. Let's go."

"If I didn't misunderstand you, I'd almost think you were using your floo to bait me."

Daphne smirked. "Don't you know, Potter? That's how Slytherin works. We grab every opportunity to barter a deal."

"Yeah, but you're not a hundred percent Slytherin."

"True..." she agreed with a hint of smile. Subsequently, she yanked his hand, pulling him in the direction of her family, never loosening her grip.

* * *

><p><strong>19 June 1991.<strong>

It was late at night before the green fire finally burst from the fireplace of the Potter mansion.

"Ooof," Harry landed in an improper heap on the living room floor.

Grumbling, he mutely cursed his lack of skill concerning magical travel. His comical falls never failed to irritate him. Daphne, who rarely laughed, had giggled when they traveled to Greengrass manor by Portkey earlier. Harry's eyes had glimmered in jealousy when she landed gracefully on both feet with a smirk. Looking around, he heaved a sigh of relief, nobody was around to greet him.

Harry coolly waved his right hand behind his back, forcing his trunk to hover in the air. It followed Harry to his room as he shoved his hands in his pockets and took silent steps past the staircase. He always hated being in his room. It brought back years' worth of lonely memories. However, it was also his sanctuary, the only place he could spend his time without anyone bothering him. His room contained bookshelves, a simple wardrobe, a small bed, and a desk. Every inch of the bookshelves was covered by books he'd taken from the Potter library, which was enormous.

"Hawwy…"

Harry paused in his doorway. The voice was coming from down the hallway, out of a cute little girl in a nightgown. The girl was holding a doll in her left hand, and rubbing her chestnut brown eyes with her right. Her smooth, raven colored hair was messy from sleep.

"Rosaline?"

Harry's little sister was no more than two and a half, but Harry already believed her to be brilliant. She had a peculiar grasp on English language, able to speak the majority of it fluently, except for Harry's name, which she never did get right.

Harry knelt in front of his sister. "Rosaline, what are you doing up this late? You should be in bed."

"Weting for big brother to cme hme," she yawned innocently. "I want Hawwy wead me stowy book, like mommy."

Harry smiled as Rosaline raised both hands up at Harry, begging him to take her in his arms. Harry shook his head, amazed at this little girl.

"Alright, then. Up you go, you little troll."

He picked up her fragile form and carried her to her own room. The moment she laid her head on his shoulder, she was out, and for the second time that day, Harry was overwhelmed. He tucked her into her bed, in her room which is larger than his own. He pulled the blanket up to her chin to protect her from the coldness of the dark night. Smiling, he glanced around her room, at least his parents didn't neglect his little sister. She was spoiled rotten with toys, attention, and love. Harry was just happy she wasn't walking the sad, solitary trail he was resigned to. He left her door ajar, allowing the flickering house lights to enter her room.

He supposed fate really did take a pleasure in twisting people's lives.

* * *

><p><strong>20 June 1991.<strong>

"Hawwy! Wakey, Hawwy! Wakey, Wakey!" Harry Potter's peaceful sleep was interrupted by a tiny figure tugging on his right arm. "Hawwy, wakey now!"

Grumbling, Harry reclaimed his arm and turned on his side, his back facing the little girl. Pouting, Rosaline Potter climbed onto her brother's bed, jumping up and down as she giggled. Harry groaned drowsily, surfacing from the sheets he'd been wrapped in.

"Rosaline, stop that, you're hurting me." Harry sighed in distress. He stared into the wide, curious hazel eyes in front of him. "Would you mind getting off me, Rosaline? You're heavy."

Rosaline huffed, pouting angrily. It brought a smirk to his face. His little sister didn't like anyone telling her she was fat, for the simple reason that princesses aren't. With a wave of his hand and enormous concentration, Rosaline floated into the air. She shrieked in joy, clapping her hands giddily. Gently, Harry lowered her back to the ground, where she continued to clap her tiny hands in excitement.

"Again, again, again!" she demanded with glee.

"One ride only, Rosaline."

"Rosy!" she huffed.

"No, your name is Rosaline Potter, not Rosy. That's just your nickname."

"Hawwy is mean!"

"Oh, he is, is he?" She nodded her head rapidly. "Well, that's too bad, because he has a present for little Rosy."

Rosaline broke into another cheer, skipping in circles. "Yay! Present, present!"

Harry shook his head with a smile at the joy of being a child. He whipped a wolf doll out of his trunk and presented it to Rosaline, who hugged the little thing fiercely. Harry then ushered her out of his room, and began to prepare for his day, reminding Rosaline that he didn't want her to bother him for the rest of the day. He was planning to meet someone later. Softly coaxing Rosaline out the door, he shut it securely before casting a locking charm upon the doorknob and a privacy ward around his room. He shot another charm at his trunk, which began unpacking itself and placing his luggage in its proper place. Harry then retired to the bathroom to enjoy a long shower.

Once he was done brushing his teeth, he eyed at the look of his silk hair that spiked up in natural manner yet somewhat subdued. His hair was nothing like his father's. In fact, Harry considered himself quite different from the rest of the Potters. Thank God, he didn't need to wear those hideous round glasses, as his eyesight was rather perfect. Harry stared himself in the mirror. He was going to meet that 'man' today. The very man who taught him to use magic to the fullest, unlike any other wizard. The man who had lived far longer than any other wizard, however, cut his ties from wizarding society in favor living peacefully in the Muggle world. This man had lived a lonely useless life until he met Harry, whom he resolved in crafting Harry as his heir.

Harry had been lucky to encounter him by coincidence. Their meeting had been a major point in his life.

Harry settled on Muggle clothes, an Ascot hat, and his luxurious brown coat that reached to his knees. Opening the drawer of his desk, he picked up the Portkey he had illegally created. Activating the Portkey, he left the Potter mansion, only to land once more on his butt, this time in front of the Leaky Cauldron. Fortunately, there were no people to witness his rather embarrassing entrance since it was still fairly early in the morning. Standing up and dusting off the dirt of his pants, Harry threw his coat over his arms. A sound like thunder prompted him to place a hand on his stomach. He entered the leaky cauldron to stumble on a few people chatting and drinking Butterbeer. Harry sauntered to the bar and plopped down on a stool. Tom, the bartender, approached him warily, mostly due to his Muggle clothes.

"What can I get you, lad?"

"The usual, Tom." Harry tipped his hat to reveal his face.

"Merlin, save me, its little Harry! Well, not that little anymore… Great to see you again, lad. Returned from Hogwarts, eh? Well, glad to have you back. But I suppose you're in a hurry, as always. Me wife will rough up that meal for you in no time. Just sit tight lad, it'll be out in a jiffy."

Harry nodded his head and Tom disappeared into the back. Shouts ensued from behind the bar, Harry had to smile knowingly. Nothing ever changed in the Leaky Cauldron, no matter how many days passed by. Harry ate, left a considerate tip, and strolled back out into the alleyway. London was huge, with thousands of Muggles milling by Harry, who walked in the direction of a Muggle bus stop. He still had plenty of Muggle money left on account of him visiting the Muggle world many times. He found it intriguing and worthy of being explored, as many children do.

The difference between Harry and many children, though, was that Harry had the ability to sneak out into the Muggle world.

Harry honestly believed the Muggles to be brilliant, the whole lot of them. They managed to survive entirely without magic, relying solely on their brains, and looking around him, he discovered the technology they'd invented was amazing. Their warfare was far beyond anything witches and wizards were capable of. With a single click, they could destroy an entire nation. They could discover anything in concern of anyone or anyplace by simply using an item called, 'the computer'.

Of course it cannot be said the same to the Magical people, they were as naive as they could get. They thought with a swish of their wand made them superior to Muggles and they still refused to acknowledge how dangerous Muggles could be when the need arises. Sure, one Muggle was weak against a wizard. But what if they joined arms? Together, Muggles would be unbeatable. Harry blew a sigh. He really shouldn't be working his brain up over something like that. It was useless since the 'magic is might' thought was set in stone.

Along with the Muggles, Harry entered the bus and parked himself a seat. He looked at the window to his side and dozed off.

* * *

><p><strong>31 October 1985<strong>

The tinkling bell above a shop door chimed, signaling a new customer. A man in a white cloak stepped through the door, his blue eyes scrutinizing the shop, apparently in search of someone.

"Come in, come in, good sir. Do you need anything from Madam Malkin's Robes?" Madam Malkin herself welcomed the stranger.

The man smiled. "I do apologize, madam, but I was informed the boy I was seeking for could be located here?"

"Oh?" She quirked her lips. "And who might that be, good sir?"

"The bartender of the Cauldron mentioned a young boy was here. Is he, madam?"

"Oh, you mean little Harry?" She smiled brightly.

"Little Harry?" The man's eyebrows furrowed inquisitively.

"Yes, little Harry. He's quite a fellow for someone of his age. Every person in Diagon Alley knows him. We like to call him little Harry because of his unusual small size, and his insistence that no one uses his last name. He's been running errands for us shopkeepers ever since he was seven. May I say, what a cute little boy he is. So diligent for a small boy too."

"May I steal him for just a moment?"

"He's in the back, cleaning up a mess. I can call him if you wish, but you'll have to wait here, sir."

"If it is all the same to you, may I meet there?" The man smiled charmingly.

"...Of course…" She was reluctant. "Just don't harm the boy, please. We're all very fond of him. We have our sneaky suspicions that he doesn't like his home very much. Why, he comes to the alley nearly everyday, looking for some errand or another."

"I solemnly give you my word, madam. I will not harm the boy." The man gave a half bow.

Madam Malkin pointed her finger to the rear of the shop and the man walked through aisles of robes. Arriving at the back of the shop, he hit upon a boy scrubbing the floor, cursing under his breath as he concentrated on the dirt.

"Are you the one they identify to be little Harry?"

Scowling, the boy looked up at the stranger, not liking the way people called him little. "Yes, sir, that would be me. Do you need anything from me?"

The man watched the boy with increasing interest. "My, that scowl is rather incompatible for a young boy, isn't it? A cheerful smile should be more suited for a person of your age, my dear child."

The scowl increased. "Sir, if you don't need anything from me, then please, allow me to return to my work." Harry was starting to dislike this man a lot.

The stranger ignored this and placed his hand on Harry's head. The man shut his eyes and Harry had the strangest feeling that his soul was being judged. Then, before he knows it, he felt something tingling inside him. Blinking his eyes in a complete bemusement, he shook his head slightly at the sensation he experienced just then. With a smile, the man opened his eyes once more.

"For such a young boy, you have a different magical core than the others. Far larger than the magical people of this current time. And, I see, you are the person from your blood that inherited 'it'," the man mused more to himself at the last part. "Tell me, do you have any desire to seek knowledge of magic? Magic that had been lost for many, many years."

"Why would I learn it from a stranger? If I want to learn magic, all I have to do is wait until I turn eleven. That's the-"

"-reason why you do these chores for money? To buy your school supplies in a few years? You are preparing for Hogwarts, are you not?" Harry glared at the man wordlessly. "What if I teach you what magic truly is?"

"How do I know you're not lying?"

The man chuckled merrily. "You seem to have a problem trusting people, Harry." Without breaking his gaze at Harry, the man lazily blinked his eyes and suddenly the entire mess in front of Harry was organized. It was very spotless, not dust or any trace of dirt lying on the floor.

Harry's emerald eyes widened. "How did you do that?"

"Like I told you. Magic. I can teach you the true meaning of magic, if you wish."

"What's in it for you?" Harry pressed doubtfully.

"Nothing. All I ask is that you never give up. Do this and there is no turning back, do you understand?"

Harry mulled this over, thinking he hadn't detected any lies from him. "Who are you, sir? You are not around…from here…are you?"

"No, I am not." The man's lips curled into a captivating smile. "People like to call me..."

* * *

><p><strong>20 June 1991.<strong>

Harry held his hat in place when the wind threatened to take his brown coat. It swayed violently. He looked up at the frightening mansion, sitting alone atop the hill. He pursed his lips. Why couldn't the man just allow magical transportation to his mansion, rather than forcing Harry to walk the distance every time? Sometimes the old man's wise words infuriated Harry. His musings were interrupted by the mansion gates splitting open. He supposed his presence had been expected. Harry strode to the front door, watching as the two grand doors opened on their own.

There was a sort of holy orb in the house, glowing white. Harry wasn't thrown off by this since it was merely a companion for the man who lived in this forsaken mansion all by himself. The orb darted forward, giving Harry time to pursue it. Harry trailed behind and the front doors closed with a loud clang.

Passing many ridiculous artifacts and ancient ornaments, Harry strolled along inside the mansion. He stuffed both hands in his coat pockets, a habit he'd formed over the years. The orb suddenly stopped moving, merely fading away inside the large living room. Darkness devoured the room and the only light source was a flaming fireplace. There, on a large chair next to the fire was a lone man. His magical aura emanated through the living room, leaving little doubt as to how powerful he was.

Clearing his throat audibly, Harry sauntered in front of the man's chair. The man's features were pale under his raven-black hair, the twinkle in his blue eyes would put Dumbledore to shame. Staring at the man's hair, Harry noticed several gray hairs. If he hadn't known any better, he might have thought the man was getting old. But that was downright impossible, the man shouldn't have been aging at all.

"Merlin." The man smiled enchantingly wherein it had Harry grunted.

For all time, Merlin's smile had been capable of alleviating any pressure, awkwardness, or darkness. The ability mystified Harry to no end.

"Harry..." Merlin's soft voice lingered on the name. "How many times must I appeal to you to not use that moniker. My name is Myrddin Emrys."

"That's what the magical people call you, old man," Harry stubbornly insisted, ignoring the man's real name.

Merlin sighed. "Yes, my mother used to call me that because of my extraordinary power."

"Magic, you mean." Harry received an affirmative nod. "I still don't understand why you prefer to stand by and watch the wizarding world crumble when you could be helping. You're more powerful than every wizard and witch combined. Hell, you're so powerful that most people think you're a myth or - or a deity!"

"I have stated before, Harry, that is none of my concern. Your world is no longer my own. It has become corrupted in the passage of time, and reeks of people much too eager power. My decision to live in peace is unchangeable. My only wish is to pass my knowledge to you."

Harry scoffed. "Still, you have no idea what to do with your immortality. You could rule the entire wizarding world with one sweep of your hand. You could unite the wizards together again. But instead it's scattered in groups. Light, dark, grey, magical creatures herded and isolated from their own kind. All because of your ignorant stubbornness. Just look how miserable you are, living in this huge mansion for thousands of years with no one except for that holy elemental you call Skip."

A creepy smile wrapped it's way around Merlin's jaws. "You are too young to understand my situation, Harry. Immortality does not end your worries... Best not to seek it... Time ages, history repeats itself, and the sword continues to nourish. An endless cycle that will never cease to flow... And now, after so many years have passed, immortality is within the reach of those who possess enough knowledge. But, they achieve it in ugly ways, Harry, or by wasting their life on research."

"You're referring to Nicholas Flamel, the alchemist who created the Sorcerer's stone. He and his wife lived for over six centuries."

"Yes, they foiled their written fate, escaping the end decided upon by Death. Only those who live forever can learn how cruel immortality can be. It won't be long before they desire death. Death will mercilessly steal their souls as they will be, in time, where they part from our world and onto the next journey."

Merlin squinted his eyes at the young teen. Harry couldn't budge his head. It was frozen there, forcing him to fall to the fiery blue eyes. In one simple gaze, they had taken away Harry's ability to move, shattering his willpower and all his hope. "I forbid you to seek immortality, Harry. I myself have lived far too long, watching hopelessly as the people I've come to know and care died."

"Immortality doesn't suit me. I have no desire for it, old man…" Finally released from his statue-like predicament, Harry was out of breath. "How does your story goes, anyway? You once mentioned to me that Camelot was a wondrous place. It was where both worlds lived together, right? How did a country as huge as Camelot disintegrate to a mere legend so easily? How... how did an immortal like King Arthur die? Logically speaking, it's impossible. You told me you achieved immortality the same time he did, and I've never wondered how you got it, until now."

Merlin sat in silence for a time before speaking. "So long ago... and yet, it feels as though it was only yesterday. Arthur and I... we were granted immortality by those who called themselves the Ancients. I was given magic, while Arthur was given Excalibur. But as time died, so did Camelot. Those without magic rebelled, and Arthur was betrayed by his own people. He fought the war, killing his people with his own two hands. It left a deep scar in his heart. He ordered his last loyal servant to throw Excalibur into the lake... Until this day, that lake has never been found. Even with all of my magic, I have been denied. As Excalibur was long gone, it also took Arthur's immortality with it. He perished, leaving me behind to suffer immortality alone..."

"You couldn't have gotten immortality through magic, because you've had magic ever since you were born, just like every other wizard. But through the knowledge of the Ancients..." Harry furrowed his eyebrows together as his brain furiously worked to keep up with the implications of such a story. "You want to die like King Arthur, don't you? By giving your knowledge away to me, you're starting to age like everyone else. You broke the rules, didn't you? The Ancients warned you to never share this _magic_. Now, there's no turning back, and you'll keep on aging. Considering your age, you have, what… three or perhaps six more years left? ...You've been planning this ever since you met me, haven't you?" Harry was struck by this terrible realization. "What am I, Merlin? Your executioner? I agreed to learn this magic so I could prove that my parents were wrong for neglecting me, not so I could kill someone! If I ever kill, it will be to protect those who are precious to me, not for my own gains."

"That is the reason why I chose to give my knowledge to you before time sweeps me away. I am very grateful to have met you, Harry."

"Are you daft, old man? Don't joke with me! I only studied magic in the first place to show my parents how powerful I could be. I am not learning - I repeat, not learning if the cost of that knowledge is someone else's life! I'll admit that sometimes I can be a prick - okay, a large prick! - but I'm not cruel! You're not as wise as you think you are... you're just insane!"

"Is it really?" Merlin cut in.

"W-what do you mean?" Harry asked, his composure collapsing around him.

"In all the years that I've lived, I've never seen a boy train to the point of exhaustion every single day of his life. Even I, myself, do not possess that kind of resolve. You are a very talented boy, Harry. I have no doubt about you. Tell me this, Harry... is it truly the motive behind your determination? To make your parents regretful? Or do you perhaps crave for your parents' approval more than you think?"

Harry stiffened, not having expected that. His palms became sticky with sweat.

"Do not deny your feelings, Harry... Deep within your heart, you are still waiting, yearning for their affection. Am I wrong?"

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Harry shouted, his fists quivering. Merlin remained calm, unfazed by the outburst. "What do you know, old man? You're not the one who was left alone in your room every day of your childhood, wanting nothing more than a hug from your own mother! You're not the child whose father never taught you how to fly a broom! Your own mother loved you! You never even met your father, because he loved you so much, he sacrificed his life for you! Don't lecture me like you know what it's like! I don't care how many years you've lived, old man, you have to live through mine before you can spit out words about it!"

Harry was breathing hard, his chest heaving up and down. It felt good to let it all out, to unleash all that agony hiding deep inside him in one breath. He did not care that the man he had just yelled at was quite possibly the most powerful being in the planet. He had finally bared his frustration to someone.

Merlin's eyes saddened by the sight in front of him. "Yes, you are right, Harry. I have not experienced-"

"That's enough," Harry interrupted. "I came here for a reason, not to have polite conversations with you. If you want to decompose to nothing so be it. That's your choice, and I couldn't care less what you choose. Like you said, I don't understand immortality."

Merlin returned his gaze to the fire. "Very well. Neither of us can erase what has been done. You must prepare yourself, Harry, because I will have you working very hard for the next two months."

"I've been preparing my body since I was eight. That's the very reason I'm so excellent in Quidditch."

"Ah, the very sport that was invented to-"

"For an elder guy, you do love wasting time chatting, aren't you, old man?"

Merlin pursed his lips sadly, mumbling to himself, "He reminds me of Arthur. That man treated me like a weakling, disrespecting me when I became his servant..." Out of the blue, Merlin rose from his chair, suddenly feeling very old. "Impatience is the downfall of..."

He continued his lecture and Harry groaned loudly, tuning him out. All that anger, negative emotion, and pressure that had filled the room earlier was completely forgotten as his tutor continued his speech. Merlin smiled at his only pupil. Yes, Harry had been right. This had been his intention from the start.


	3. Chapter 2, Season 1

**Chapter 2.**

**20 August 1991.**

Drenched in sweat, Harry frantically gasped for air. This was a living hell. No matter how much he had exercised in the past, his fourteen year old body simply couldn't maintain the amount of strenuous activity for six hours. His body was strained, stomach muscles burning, arms and legs throbbing in pain. It wasn't training, it was torture.

Despite the ragged breaths he was sucking into his lungs, Harry had a glorious feeling of satisfaction. Finally, after two months of daily training, the old man's ridiculous demands were finally paying off. Harry had successfully mastered the art of casting spells wandlessly. Give him even the most powerful of spells, and he could cast it proficiently without a doubt. Years of channeling and focusing his magic made casting spells an effortless task.

Damn Merlin. He was probably the kindest, calmest, nicest, most selfless and caring guy around, but he was strict in regards to training. One time, he had confessed to Harry that the boy was his first student, a shocking statement, or perhaps not so much.

Even though Harry had been training with Merlin since he was eight, he had not taken a single spell from Merlin. In the six years he had known Merlin, he had not learned a single spell from him instead all he got were lectures and more lectures. For the past six years he had been instructed in spell casting, conjuration, transfiguration and wandless magic. Merlin also coerced Harry to study the way Muggles were forced to defend themselves. A strange and difficult talent the Muggles referred to as martial arts. Believe it or not, Merlin's immense magical skills were equal to his knowledge of magic-less defense. Merlin had once twisted Harry's hand and to Harry's painful surprise, his whole body twisted as well. Because of the demonstration, Harry willingly underwent the study of martial arts without a single complaint or comment on its uselessness.

The moment Merlin told eight year old Harry of a spell that the old man had been forbidden by the Ancients to pass down, was the precise second he began to age like a mortal, albeit faster. Merlin knew that he was incapable of hiding his rapidly increasing age from Harry and therefore allowed himself to expose his true appearance. He looked no more than thirty, flaunting around a few white hairs.

"Excellent job, Harry. It would appear that you are quite efficient in casting magic without need of a wand. A congratulation is in order, I presume." Smiling, Merlin sat on a beautiful chair he had conjured, relaxing carelessly, his legs crossed. "Quite honestly, I do wonder how silly it is for magical people these days to insist on using a wand instead of exploiting their magic in normal way. I do say, hands are far more efficient in utilizing magic."

Harry was out of breath. "Easy for you to say."

"If one merely trained as diligent as you have, Harry, they could accomplish it in no time at all. Remember this… in my era, there were no wands. We relied solely on our superior enchantments and knowledge. In my young days, I had to rely entirely on my eyes to use my magical abilities. I did not wave my hand, or pronounce some spell incantation. I knew nothing of the strange art before coming to Camelot. Ah, the memory I recall the day I arrived, humiliating Arthur in front of his people with my magical abilities. Frankly, Harry, I was no different than the children of your age. I often abused my magic, especially if matters relating to chores."

Still breathing heavily, Harry's eyes widened. "You u-used magic with your eyes? Is that even possible?"

Gazing into Merlin's twinkling cerulean eyes, Harry caught the slimmest of Merlin's eyes into the color of gold. Promptly, Harry was pushed by an unknown force and sent soaring backward, his spine slamming into the wall. Rising to his two feet, he groaned painfully, his body was trembling. See what Harry meant by torture? He only inquired about the _eye magic_, not demonstrating it on himself.

"As I taught you before, it is imperative that you engulf your body in an invisible shield, Harry. You never know when your enemies may strike." Harry looked up, seeing his tutor still sitting calmly with his legs crossed. He gently slid down against the wall, exhausted mentally, physically, and magically. "My, done already? I dare say, the force of my assault wasn't that hard."

_Crazy, paranoid, old immortal bastard. He calls that weak? Could he even see how I flew meters away from where I was? And the cracking sound was audible enough. Old bastard. Both his ears and eyes must be impaired from living so ridiculously long._

Merlin cocked an eyebrow at Harry's limp form. "May I remind you that I am the root to your goal, Harry?

"Stop digging my head, old man!"

"If you would place a concrete barrier in your mind as I instructed you to, I might not have to."

"Even with the barrier, you could still read my mind like an open book," Harry remarked. "Sometimes you underestimate your own magic. You know you can use telepathy, a lost magic. You're not exactly a normal wizard of modern age…"

"I suppose you do have a point." The moment Merlin removed himself from his chair, it vanished. "Well then, you have exactly one and a half weeks left before you return to your school. Use that time wisely to improve your mind and body, Harry. This marks the end of your training for the next year."

"W-wait, two years?" Harry struggled to match Merlin's height, his feet shaking too violently. "You mean there's no training next year? B-but why?"

"A word of advice, Harry. If you wish to create a name for yourself, there are other methods to be applied. Making yourself stronger is one way, but sometimes there are other tactics much more suited to you."

"Huh?" was the bewildered sound that came from Harry's mouth. "Is this one of your psychopathic lectures? Because if it is, my ears might have gone deaf."

Merlin smiled. "You will come to understand during your stay at Hogwarts castle. But before you leave, I wish to warn you. The choices you make will lead you on many different paths. Disastrous consequences are around every corner so do what you feel is right and treat it with vigilance. Goodbye, Harry...at least for now..." Harry fiercely objected when suddenly his eyelids felt very heavy. Darkness swarmed around him, and the last thing he saw was an enthralling smile.

* * *

><p>Harry shouted Merlin's name as he jolted awake, bolting into an upright position. Immediately, Harry regretted doing so, as the strain of his body started its onslaught. Damn Merlin to the seventh layer of hell! He hypnotized him asleep with that captivating smile of his. How irritating. If only Harry could get the opportunity to wring his hands around his neck and without any hesitation, he'd throttle the old man to the point of suffocation. That is, if suffocation was even possible on the greatest wizard in history.<p>

Shielding his eyes from the light streaming through the curtains, Harry realized it was morning. He must have been really exhausted from his last night of harsh training. Scrutinizing his location, he wasn't surprised to find himself in his own bed. That was Merlin's style. After a full day of training, he just hypnotized Harry to sleep, dispatching him back to his own room. Nevertheless, it was annoying to leave him in such a rough state. Damn that old bastard.

Grunting as he shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind, Harry stiffly rose and walked to the bathroom. In compliance to his everyday routine, he washed his face and brushed his teeth. He groaned at the tighten muscles all over his body as he went to the shower. He let the water drain the stench from his body. A thought struck his brain. He had just mastered wandless magic, so why not apply it? Could he perform a healing spell? It was worth a shot. Disregarding the water pouring over his body, Harry muttered a healing spell he had found in a book from the Potter library. Surprisingly, the heavy weight burdening his body was alleviated.

Grinning madly, Harry childishly cast any spell that passed through his mind. Hexes and charms splashed from his hands, lighting up the shower. As _expulso_ spell lashed from Harry's right hand and hit the wall, he abruptly paused, blinking his eyes in shock. Apparently, he had overdone it. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but be excited - who wouldn't be? Luckily, _silencio_ was one of the spells he had performed before the _expulso_ incident, and accordingly, no one had heard the explosion.

His grin converted to awe as he watched the bathroom disappear from sight, replaced by his common room. Slowly, an arrogant smirk worked its way onto his face, feeling his magical core elevating. Harry wasn't the slightest bit tired. Shaking his head in amazement, he used his new abilities to repair everything he had damaged. He felt enormous satisfaction as his bathroom reverted back to normal. Dropping his hands, he concluded his shower, whistling a happy tune all the while.

Casually sauntering down the stairs, his happy expression dropped. He stared hard at the dining room table filled with his family members. James and Harry's little brother were discussing pranks and Quidditch. Lily was doting his younger sister, helping the little girl eat breakfast. There was a little food stuck around her mouth and she giggled as she tossed the food around. Harry clandestinely swept to the kitchen, planning to rustle a meal together for himself. He had been doing it since he was five, and as such, was exceptionally good at cooking. Nonchalantly casting a cleaning charm on the stove, Harry leaned his body over the counter. Munching his meal, his eyes glued onto the spotless stove. A smirk graced his lips.

He still underwent a rush of excitement at the sheer abilities he possessed. He would never admit it but he was deeply grateful for meeting Merlin, even if it wasn't logical for a dead man to walk around the face of the planet. Because of him, Harry had a purpose in life. Encountering the greatest wizard of all time had revived the lifeless hope inside him and for that, Harry was forever indebted to Merlin. It was a shame Merlin had decided to perish alongside history.

Though, Harry was genuinely mad at Merlin for not using his immortality, he respected the man's wishes. If Harry were to look through the old man's perspective, he would find that it was painful for him to live alone, watching people he knows died, humans killing each other and destruction human can cause. The endless cycle horror of history. Harry couldn't possibly imagine someone enduring so much with no one by their side except maybe Skip, the holy elemental. Now that Harry thought about it, it was quite a peculiar moniker that Merlin had given to the holy elemental.

"Mom, Dad! Look, it's my Hogwarts letter! It's finally here!" The excited shout from the dining table disrupted his thoughts.

Harry raised his head from his meal.

"Well, open it then, don't keep us waiting," Lily's soft voice called.

Harry frowned at the hint of smile on her lips.

* * *

><p><strong>24 July 1988<strong>

His small hands trembled as he ripped open the Hogwarts letter from Professor McGonagall. He had been accepted to Hogwarts and they patiently awaited his reply. He felt a tiny smile creep through the corners of his lips. He quickly pursed them. Should he tell his parents or not? A dispute erupted between his mind and his heard. His heart wanted badly to notify them but his mind told him otherwise, stating it to be meaningless. Trusting his heart, he moved from the bed, the letter firmly in his palm. He walked through the halls and down the staircase, his ears picking up the sound of laughter amid scolding.

He peeked through a window that looked over their garden.

Both of his uncles were laughing along with his little brother, Daniel. He was sitting on Uncle Sirius's shoulders. His mother was admonishing his father while holding his baby sister, ranting on about permitting her son to ride a broom. His father was begging her to forgive him, reasoning that he had been on the broom alongside the little boy, initiating a new round of laughter from the other three. Harry gripped his letter tightly. He would just make a fool of himself if he announced the arrival of his Hogwarts letter. Closing the curtain tightly, he carried the letter back to his room. A single tear streamed down his cheek, the laughter banging against his eardrums.

* * *

><p><strong>20 August 1991.<strong>

"...You'll have so much fun at Hogwarts! Oh, just think, my son at Hogwarts! I'm so proud! I'll call Padfoot and Moony tonight for a celebration! Just think of all the pranks you're going to do!"

"James, I will not let my son get in trouble for pranking! I swear, you and Sirius can be such bad influences on Daniel!"

Harry shook his head as the conversation of his brother's acceptance to Hogwarts continued. He levitated his plate to the sink, casted another cleaning charm and walked indifferently back to his room. He walked swiftly to his room, locking his door with charms before diving onto his bed and burying his face in the pillow. Wheeling his body around, he gazed at the ceiling in boredom, marveling on what to do for the rest of the day. A few minutes later, his eyes closed resignedly, falling into a deep slumber. It appeared the effects of training harshly for two and a half months had finally taken a toll on him.

* * *

><p>Harry looked around him, identifying every of his environment. Facing the front, his half-lidded eyes laboriously stared at the crowd. Three of his family members were being swarmed by reporters, the center of attention, as always. Fortunately, he had managed to sneak Rosaline out of the spotlight, although to do so he had pushed people away quite roughly. His right hand held his sister's. She was innocently inspecting every bit of her surroundings, a doll clutched in her free arm. Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly. His baby sister wouldn't be satisfied unless one of her dolls was with her everywhere she went. Right now, the entire family was in Diagon Alley, buying his brother school supplies.<p>

Focusing on the tiny being by his feet, Harry asked her, "Rosaline, do you want to go over to the emporium where they sell all sorts of animals?"

Her chestnut eyes shone brightly, jumping up and down by his leg. "Oh, can we? Can we?"

Bobbing his head, he swept his sister into his arms. He strode away from the crowd and in the direction of the emporium. Harry was thankful that there were so few people in the shop due to his brother being outside. Harry tightened his grip on his baby sister, much to Rosaline's displeasure. She was squirming to break free from his brother's clutches, squealing gleefully as they passed by owls, toads, cats, rats, baby wolves, and more. Harry waved off the salesman, telling him they were there only to look and not to buy. The sound of hissing emanated from the snake cage, Harry paid them no heed.

All they did was complaining, despising their locked cage. When he was eight years old, he had discovered he was a Parseltongue. Snakes were no big deal to Harry. At first, he had been confused when he heard voices coming from the snakes. Merlin had reassured him, mentioning it was a rare talent but it did not mean that a person's heart would turn to darkness. As a matter of fact, Harry knew he was lucky to have it, as he could use it to his advantage on the battlefield. And so, at least for now, he planned to keep that talent of his a secret from everyone.

&...When our king of ssserpentsss essscapess from itsss prissson, you humansss will all be dead!&

That perked Harry's ears. That wasn't something you heard everyday. Wasn't the snake king a Basilisk? He walked over to the cage where the snakes were being held, adjusting his baby sister in his arms. &Tell me, what do you mean by king of the ssserpents?& he hissed in their snake language.

&A ssspeaker!&

&You ssspeak our language, two-leg!&

&Interesssting...&

&Free me, two-leg!&

&Yesss, free usss from thisss cage!&

&We demand you free usss...&

&Ssshut up, all of you! How dare you command me! I'm a ssspeaker of your kind, so ressspect me and obey my command!& Harry hissed angrily, and all the snakes piped down at his acid tone. &Now, tell me, who isss thisss king of ssserpentsss? Isssn't it a Basssilik?&

&A Basssilisssk? Thossse beassstsss is no king of oursss. Don't mock our king by comparing him to that beassst, great ssspeaker. Our king could incapacitate three sssimilar beassstss with eassse. Our king once lossst a battle to a wizard of your kind. The wizard imprisssoned our king for yearsss becasssussse our king isss immortal. Sssuch tragedy that itsss prissson location wasss hidden. But for the lassst sssix yearsss, our kind can hear itsss voice inssside our head, calling to usss... It won't be long before it isss free and forges a war againssst your kind...Beware, you have been warned& The oldest snake slithered its head to Harry's eye-level, hissing.

Harry's eyes went a little wide in shock. Not being a Basilisk is one thing, but incapacitating three Basilisks with ease? That was some beast. A Basilisk was enormous, larger than any other beast. It was extinct now, after many years. The king of snakes must be powerful and very dangerous if it saw the Basilisk as an insect. The last six years? That's when Harry met Merlin for the first time ever...

&How are you ssso sssure of hisss exissstence?&

&All of our kind knowsss of itsss exissstence, why mussst we wassste our breath telling you? The only thing that mattersss isss we can feel the king of ssserpentsss; so lucky for usss to hear itsss whisssper...Great ssspeaker, do not force me to ssspeak of my king any longer& The snake's tone ended the discussion and Harry choose not to badger the snake any more.

"Hawwy speaking to snake. Rosy can too!" Rosy claimed cheerfully. She tried to follow the exact language, producing a hissing sound and continuously sticking out her tongue. Her eyes crossed as she gazed at her tiny tongue.

"Y-y-you speak Parseltongue!" Harry sighed at the aghast salesman for interrupting them.

Glaring at the salesman, Harry removed the memory from the salesman's mind. That was why Harry refused to show anyone. The minister had the stupid idea in proclaiming Parseltongue to be Dark magic. Harry brought his sister out of the shop, gazing at the crowd gathered around Madame Malkin's robes. Harry heaved a sigh. Everyone was gradually losing their sanity these days. Rolling his eyes, he moved away from the crowd. He would bring Rosaline back later. Right now, he could afford to spend a little more time with his sister, who was eager to see new things.

For a half an hour, Harry carried his sister. At the present, she was sleeping soundly.

Earlier, he had spotted Hagrid walking out of Gringotts. Harry thought of greeting the big guy, but didn't when he noticed Hagrid moving warily through the streets. Harry swore he saw something red in Hagrid's coat, wrapped haphazardly in brown paper. Whatever it was, it had flickered red in the sunlight, shining inside of Hagrid's pocket. Harry shrugged his shoulders, disinterested. It was none of his business and the big guy was probably just running an errand for Professor Dumbledore. That being said, Harry decided to meet up with his family at Ollivander's wand shop. He could tell the crowd had subdued as the hours passed. Thank God for that. Harry entered the shop. His eyes glazed as a fresh memory overtook his mind.

* * *

><p><strong>19 August 1988.<strong>

"You don't have to do this, old man," an eleven year old Harry Potter protested. "You already bought my school supplies for Hogwarts and the uniform. Also, other stuff. I think I have enough money to buy my own wand now."

Merlin smiled enchantingly under his white cloak. "Now, now, Harry. I would rather spend my money on you than on my own selfish needs, so be grateful."

"Don't think this will change the way I talk to you." Harry scowled, blatantly disrespecting the man's generosity.

"It never crossed my mind, dear child... I would never dream of it." Merlin chuckled merrily, ruffling the boy's hair. Harry grunted at the gesture, slapping the hand away and mending his messy hair. "My, what coldness..."

Harry glared at the man who was smiling at him in interest. He scurried his small feet quickly to Ollivander's Wands, hoping to distance himself from the old man. Entering the shop, his anger was swiftly replaced by curiosity. Harry felt like he had stepped in a very strict library. The tinkling bell rang for the second time as Merlin entered, effectively restoring Harry's scowl.

"Harry, what did I tell you about smiling? It brightens up the area."

"I don't want to be like you, let alone be another you."

"Just a moment now," a soft voice came from deep inside the tiny shop. An old man, then, materialized out of the blue, causing Harry to jump and let out a little shriek of surprise. Merlin remained calm, not perturbed in the slightest by the man's sudden appearance. "Good afternoon..."

"Um... It's good to see you again, Mr. Ollivander," Harry said awkwardly. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Oh my," said the man, smiling creepily at the young boy. "Is that little Harry? You have grown over the past few years. It seems it was just yesterday you stared my window, gaping at my wands."

"I did not gape. There must have been a mistaken identity going on at the time!"

The chuckle behind him initiated a new round of glare from the boy. "I cannot imagine you doing something like that, Harry," the old man laughed.

"Shut up," Harry hissed irately.

Mr. Ollivander, in the meantime, was startled by the stranger's presence. Tilting his head, he rubbed his chin. "Hmm... How curious. I remember every wand I've ever sold, but I don't recall selling one to you, Mr...?"

"Carter, John Carter," the man responded, smiling mysteriously at the wand maker. "I am a squib and I am merely accompanying young Harry as he buys his school supplies, an errand for the Potters'."

"Oh, such a shame. Forgive me for asking." Mr. Ollivander frowned, bowing his head slightly.

Harry looked away from Merlin's satisfactory expression. He was a little too good at manipulating people.

"That is fine... Now, about Harry's wand? Let us delay no further, shall we?"

"Ah, yes. Yes, indeed. Do wait a moment, please... First, allow me to measure your hand, Harry."

The tape measure stretched across Harry's palm of its own accord.

Just as Ollivander was about to leave to find a suitable wand for Harry, a bang sounded from the back of the shop. Fast as lightning, a white wand dashed to Harry. Harry yelped, closing his eyes fearfully as he grasped the wand in his hand. He slowly opened his eyes to find Mr. Ollivander fixing his eyes on him in shock. Before he could comment, the wand vibrated vigorously in his hand and a burst of fireworks erupted from it. Several colors jumped to the ceiling of the dim shop, illuminating their faces.

"Oh, dear me. Marvelous! Marvelous indeed!" Mr. Ollivander gloriously declared. "Never in my years would I have imagined... Oh, what my predecessors would say… It would seem that the time has finally come..."

"What? What is it, Mr. Ollivander? Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all, Harry. Do you know what that wand is?" Harry rapidly shook his head. "That wand, my boy, is no ordinary wand. I, myself, did not create it. As such, I do not know its magical core, nor what wood it is made of. Such a strange wood, though, to make it white. Where does it come from? I do not know... However, in all the years it has lived in this store, it has radiated a magical aura of its own. So curious it has made me. It must be ancient, I once thought."

"W-what do you mean by ancient? And once thought?"

Ollivander's wide pale eyes shone ever so brightly, his smile nearly splitting his face. "You see, my dear boy, that wand has been here since the shop was built, even before then. Never once have I nor my kinsmen before me, have ever found its owner. I was saddened by the thought of leaving it in storage with the other unused wands, but now, I am delighted it has chosen you. You must be a special person to deserve such a wand, Harry. Do take care of it. I expect great things… Yes, I look forward to the day it changes our world."

"So that means it has no tracking charm?" Harry concluded smugly. His eyes gleamed at the thought of using magic freely.

Mr. Ollivander chuckled happily. "Such a sneaky thought for a child. You would do well in Slytherin, Harry... However, it is still a wand, and as such has a tracking charm, just as the rest. You will have to wait until you are of age, just as everyone else, if you wish to use magic freely, Harry."

Harry brooded over this information. Merlin smiled, patting his head affectionately. "Now, that's done. What is the price of this wand? It must be expensive, knowing its history."

Mr. Ollivander pondered this. "I will make this an exception, my friend. I will give this wand as a gift, Harry Potter."

Harry frowned. As much as he enjoyed a present, he did not want something that was sold for free. "But-"

"But, no, Harry. You have made an old man's day happy. Happy day, indeed! All I ask is for you cherish that wand."

Harry reluctantly succumbed at the sight of the old man's shining moon, tearful eyes. "Alright. Thank you," Harry mumbled half-heartedly.

"Best we get going then, Harry. You will be wanting to get home, as night is about to fall." Merlin ushered Harry out of the shop.

Harry looked over his shoulder, gripping his newly acquired wand tightly. "I'll take care of it, Mr. Ollivander! I swear!" he shouted with determination.

Mr. Ollivander smiled brightly, nodding his head in appreciation at the motivation written across the young boy's face.

* * *

><p><strong>20 August 1991.<strong>

Harry slipped his hand to his pocket, confirming the presence of his wand. While Harry no longer required a wand, he still believed that it would be of great use to him. His musings shattered as he looked to his family members.

"Be patient, Daniel. I'm sure there's a wand for you somewhere. We just need to wait a little longer while Mr. Ollivander looks." Lily soothed softly.

"Well, it's just only a matter of time... Right, Lily?" James hesitantly whispered.

On her toes, Lily examined the wandmaker over the counter, concern plastered across her face. "I don't know, James. What's taking Mr. Ollivander so long? We've been trying different wands for the last thirty minutes, and none of them have chosen Daniel."

A rustling emerged from behind the counter as a familiar voice became clearer and clearer. "Ah, do forgive me for taking so much time to look for this wand... Here you are, Daniel Potter. Do give this one a try. An unusual combination, I dare say. Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple. You're a tricky customer, Mr. Potter."

As he grabbed hold of the wand, it vibrated in Daniel's hand. He raised it above his head and brought it down, swishing it lightly. A spark of red and gold burst from the tip like fireworks, dancing on the walls. James whooped, grinning widely. Lily hugged her son from behind, smiling happily. Harry surveyed the scene with boredom.

Mr. Ollivander was wary. "Curious... very curious."

"What's so curious, Mr. Ollivander?" Daniel questioned politely.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, dear boy. It just so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather. I'm quite confident this is no coincidence. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined to hold this wand, when its twin brother gave you that scar." The atmosphere sunk, and Daniel's hand insecurely loosened its grip on the wind, allowing it to slip to the ground. The faces of his parents became ashen, an audible swallow coming from James. Harry whistled at the declaration, less astonished than amused. Mr. Ollivander paid no attention to their reactions, and persisted on, "Curious how these things happen... First, that ancient wand, and now this... But the wand chooses the wizard, remember? We expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... You must make up for the terrible things He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has done with that wand's brother. Great, but terrible things..."

* * *

><p><strong>1 September 1988.<strong>

Eleven-year-old Harry exhaled a breath of exhaustion and relief. He had finally packed all of his things. Nodding his head in satisfaction and hands on his hips, he checked once more to ensure his wand in his pocket. His wand was the most important thing he had to bring to Hogwarts. Inside, he was bursting with excitement at the prospect of Hogwarts, despite the fact he studied most of the spells already.

"I see you are ready to go, my dear boy."

Harry whirled around to glare at the man smiling on the edge of his bed. "You can't just pop into a house that's not yours! Don't you know trespassing is a very serious crime? How can you call yourself the greatest magical person of all time when you can't even follow one simple rule?"

"You forget that modern laws do not apply to me, as technically I am not from this age."

"Then why can't you just vanish from the face of the plant? That would make my life a whole lot easier."

The man merely chuckled. "Your unwelcoming attitude often amused me, Harry."

Harry contained a scream of frustration as he threw a pillow at Merlin. The pillow disappeared directly before hitting Merlin and reappeared to strike Harry repeated from behind. Harry yelped, slipping and face-planted to the ground with a painful thud.

"Well, then. Enough playing around for now... We have to leave Harry, the train will depart soon." Merlin flicked his finger at Harry, and suddenly the pain from the boy's fall vanished. "My thoughts, Harry, are that you should tell your parents of your departure. You won't be seeing them for a year, after all."

Harry's angry expression visibly changed as he sighed sadly. "They won't mind. Let's just go."

Merlin simply shook his head and motioned Harry to the door. Seeing Merlin's face, Harry reluctantly followed him down the hall, dragging his feet all the way. He followed the voices that echoed up the stairs, knowing them to belong to his parents, uncles, and brother. Trailing the sound to the dining table, he peeked over the railing. There was his family, at the table, enjoying each other's company while they simultaneously excluded Harry. They had even forgotten that today was the day he would leave for Hogwarts. How could he just waltz in and inform them of his departure without creating an awkward situation?

But Merlin was a stubborn man and refused to hear any of Harry's excuses. Furthermore, it would be a stupid idea to lie to someone who people worshiped as a deity. Biting his bottom lip, Harry descended the stairs without a choice. Laughter rang Harry's ears as he stole a glance to the table. How could they sit there laughing and forgetting about his important day? Or his existence, for that matter? Gradually, a scowl worked its way onto Harry's face. They didn't deserve to be a part of his life after missing six years of it. Still, he expected their attention and yet all he got was pointless hope.

He had given them far too many chances to notice him and they always failed to. Now Harry had decided it was better this way. He wanted to hate them for this, but he couldn't - he wasn't the type of person to harbor anger that deeply. Tears fell softly from his eyes as they lingered on his mother for a moment. He gave her another chance to notice him. As it passed, he marched back to his room without another glance. He ignored their laughter, slamming his door roughly and staring at the old man smiling sadly at him.

"This is just the beginning of your journey, Harry. You must stay strong. The future will be better, I promise. If it is worsen then remember to never give up and fight for tomorrow. I'm afraid your step to your destiny has not yet begun so stay strong, Harry." Harry nodded, sobbing and wiping his tears furiously.

"Can we go now, old man? I don't want to stay here anymore," Harry mumbled quietly, grabbing the trolley that was packed with his things.

"Yes, my dear child, we shall." Without a sound, the two disappeared from the room, no one there to take note of their absence.

* * *

><p><strong>1 September 1991<strong>.

September first had finally arrived. Just as Callista had said three months ago, time often passed by too quickly and Harry failed to take notice of it. Towing his trunk behind him, Harry strolled along in a casual manner, lagging far behind his parents. They were at the King's Cross Station, walking toward the Hogwarts' Express. Harry had brought his favorite Ascot hat with him, concealing his face from others. As was the custom, Lily, James, and Daniel scarcely registered he was with them. Only Rosaline occasionally sent a brief smile his way from Lily's arms before she was once again distracted by her surroundings. Harry felt a slight sting in his heart. This was the first time his family had accompanied him to King's Cross Station and it was only for his little brother.

Harry pursed his lips. One thing was for certain, he unquestionably hated being week, feeble, or dependent on others. And now he was acting like his old five-year-old self, shedding tears and weeping for affection. His eyes lazily turned to the family of flaming red heads who were greeting his own family up ahead. Their smiles were a bit too sweet, particularly the mother's. The plump mother of six boys and one daughter, hugged Lily. Next, she hugged Daniel tightly and instantly began to mother him.

What kind of family consisted entirely of identically haired individuals? Oh, that's right - the Malfoy's. How ironic that the two families were pitted as mortal enemies since the beginning of time. Fate does twist lives in strange ways. Harry sat deliberately on a stool, tolerantly waiting out the tearful reunion and endless chatting. He would not be going through the platform with them. If he had to guess, they'd be showered by flashing lights from the cameras of reporters on the other side. As the families walked together through the barrier, Harry trailed far behind, intentionally slowing down.

Just as Harry had predicted, the two families were swarmed by reporters. Harry shook his head pitifully at the hopeless lot of them. A familiar voice caught Harry's attention, sounding rather childish for a grown adult. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw his godfa- Black, running over to his family, calling for their attention. Lupin was chasing behind him, smiling widely at the Potter's. They passed Harry without a single glance, never even noticing him. Harry marveled at this. It was as though he'd cast a disillusionment charm upon himself. He smirked. The old man would be proud if it were the case. Speaking of the old man, Harry wondered what he was doing right now. Probably watching that famous Muggle invention, the television, laughing at the comedy and ordering Skip to fetch some snacks.

Harry's thoughts shattered when he heard laughter. Sirius was in the middle of making some kind of joke, crackpot or trying to look funny. Harry grunted at this, walking ahead to distance himself from the merry folk. He positioned himself on a safe spot where he could no longer see their spectacle. With no warning, Harry's hat fell from his head. His silky hair fell smoothly and he was pulled into a huge hug, the person holding him evidently not wanting to let him go. He blinked his eyes, flabbergasted. A mass of raven hair blocked his sight until the owner of said hair placed her hands on Harry's shoulders. Harry was confronted with engrossing light green eyes, very similar to Daphne's.

"Harry, it's splendid to see you again! How was your summer? Did you already buy your school supplies? Has your family been treating you better? Tell me if they didn't, and I'll go talk to them this time." This last bit sounded more or less like a threat.

"Lady Greengrass, it's a pleasure to see you again," Harry greeted politely, a small smile instinctively toying his lips. "Uh... Me? Y-yes, I've been doing fairly well. My summer had been very…interesting and productive. And, yes, I've already purchased all my things. As for my family... They're treating me quite well. Very well, actually."

What Harry meant by well was that they had left him alone all summer. He felt bad for lying, but didn't want to worry the woman, let alone cause her to angrily face his family. A beautiful smile etched across her face, only to be replaced by a frown. "How many times must I tell you to address me by my name? There's really no need for formalities and such."

"It would be rude for me to do that." Her frown intensified. She opened her mouth to counter, but was disrupted by the arrival of a new stranger.

"There you are, Elizabeth. You shouldn't rush off like that. It's quite hard to follow you, what with you moving so quickly through the crowd." A tall, well-built man, with a quite an intimidating figure, butted into the conversation as he gently scolding his wife. His large hand held the tinier hand of an eight-year-old girl. The girl was gawking at Harry doggedly. She blushed when her eyes clashed Harry's gaze, silencing herself in her mortification.

"Oh, hush, William. I simply went off to meet Harry," Elizabeth Greengrass objected to her husband. "There's nothing wrong with that. The poor boy was all alone in the crowd."

"Oh, dear mother. Your daughters are fine, there have been no broken bones or loss of consciousness, I'll have you know - thank you very much for your concern. Now, you're free to continue spoiling this illegitimate son of yours, not by blood, of course. So go on and smother him some more." The sarcastic tone was undeniably from Daphne. She materialized behind her mother, folding her arms over her developing chest as she tapped her right foot. Tints of red surfaced to Elizabeth's cheeks and she tittered shamefacedly at her eldest daughter. Daphne moved her attention to Harry. "I blame you for stealing our mother's affection, Potter. You even caused her to forget her own daughters were with her today."

"And her husband." William Greengrass's smirk matching his daughter's.

The comment served to further heat the lady's face. "You two! I've missed Harry, that's all. It's been so long since I last saw him."

"Right. I believe you mother, I sincerely do. But if I'm not mistaken, didn't we invite him to dinner? No, wait, that's not right. Wasn't it, let's say three days ago, that you forced him to join us for dinner?" Daphne's smirk widened. Her blushing mother turned an even brilliant shade of red.

"Daphne Greengrass!" Elizabeth cried out in embarrassment.

"You called, precious mother?" she asked sweetly. William chortled at the display before glancing to the smiling Harry. Such a young lad to have experienced so many responsibilities. William respected the boy and cared for him greatly.

"How have you been holding up, lad? Well, I presume?" The man kindly offered his hand.

Harry shook the man's rough hand. "Yes, very well, Lord Greengrass. Thank you for your concern."

"You don't have to be so polite with us, lad. I've lost count on how many times I've asked you to call me by my given name." The man laughed merrily. "It's been three years, you should have dropped the formalities by now."

"Yes, too stubborn for his own good," Elizabeth chided tenderly, a slight scowl marred her beautiful face. "Just call us by our given names, Harry. There's no harm in doing so, and it's frustrating when you act so polite to us. You don't think of us as strangers, do you?"

"N-no! Not at all! I'm so grateful to your family for all you've done for me, Lady - uh... I - I mean Elizabeth."

Elizabeth beamed in happiness. "That's better. Now try to get used to it, Harry, you understand?"

"Y-yes, of course. Although it will take some time..."

Although shuddering a tad, Harry's smile never wavered. His heart was pounding furiously. For the hundredth times, Harry marveled if this was how other children felt toward their parents. After all, he had come to think of the Greengrass's as parental figures. Elizabeth mothered him continuously every time they met, always tending to his needs and supplying him with plenty of gifts no matter how much Harry opposed. As for William, he always questioned Harry's well-being, talked to him man-to-man about politics, provided him sound advices on Quidditch tactics and constantly made sure Harry had everything he needed, no matter how many galleons it cost the man.

"There you go. Now that wasn't too hard, was it? Either that, or my dear wife was just too forceful for you, lad." William laughed out loud.

Smiling sadistically, Elizabeth whacked the back of her husband's head. "I was merely being insistent, not forceful, darling... There's a difference, wouldn't you agree, my sweet husband?"

William nodded his head shakily. "Yes, sweetheart, of course I agree... Absolutely…Most definitely, indeed…"

Harry chuckled noiselessly, so much for William's frightening appearance.

"It's best we be going now, the train will be departing anytime," Daphne briskly intruded. "We need to find a compartment as well and it won't be long before other students occupy the best ones."

"Yes, you two really should be going now," Elizabeth said, her tone indicated disappointment.

Elizabeth kneeled to the ground and snatched Harry's hat, smiling as she dusted it off for him. This had been her first gift to Harry to celebrate his twelfth birthday. She had purchased it at Madam Malkin's robes since the hat had fascinated her, never mind the high price it had cost her. Her daughter had recently informed her that Harry cherished the hat and it was, in fact, the only hat he ever wore. Not to mention, he refused to let anyone near it, much less touch it. Elizabeth's heart warmed at hearing this piece of news. She placed the hat on Harry's head and gently maneuvered his hair underneath it.

"You take care of yourself, Harry and please keep an eye on my daughter. She has a tendency to look for trouble wherever she goes."

"Mother! I do not!" Daphne argued hotly.

Elizabeth grinned teasingly at her daughter, jerking her girl into a big hug. Breaking it, she kissed her daughter's cheeks and forehead. Daphne grumbled at the gesture before offering swift hugs to her father and younger sister. As Daphne dragged her trunk to the train, Elizabeth presented four pouches of galleons to Harry.

"Harry, this is for you. I want you to spend your money wisely, is that clear?"

Harry held both hands in the air and waved them rapidly, his eyes widened. "This is too much, Lady Greengrass. I still have some of the galleons you gave me last year!"

"Now what did I say about formality?" Elizabeth reprimanded flippantly. "And Harry, we give you money so you can buy your own necessities and save some of it for the future. Consider them gifts from William and I. If you don't accept it, I'll be very, very hurt."

Harry reluctantly accepted the four pouches of galleons, slipping them inside his coat. He didn't have the heart to hurt the same woman who had looked after him for the past three years as if he was her own son. He promised her that he'd spend it wisely and Elizabeth yanked him into an embrace before kissing his cheeks affectionately.

"Right, then. Off you go, or the train will be leaving without you." Harry bobbed his head affirmatively, obeying her.

"I just need to get my trunk," he said, a tint of red on his cheeks. He squirmed awkwardly by her affection. "I left it with my family."

"I'll accompany you, Harry," Lord Greengrass said. "There is a matter I'd like to discuss with you. Wait for me by the signs, sweetheart."

"Goodbye, Astoria. See you soon," Harry said, smiling.

Squeaking, Astoria blushed madly. She hid behind her mother, causing both parents to chuckle. Every time the girl was confronted by Harry, she became soundless. Harry and William promptly left in the direction of Harry's trunks while Elizabeth and Astoria stayed behind to where William had requested.

"What did you wish to talk about, Lord Greengrass?"

"Listen, Harry…" William began as Harry grabbed the handle of his trunk.

"What do you need, Lord Greengrass? Are you going to ask me to watch over Daphne at Hogwarts? Because I do that anyways."

William arched an eyebrow at this information, smiling appreciatively. "Thank you, lad. Though it's not what I wish to discuss with you. Does Hogwarts still hold Quidditch tournaments?"

"Yes, of course they do, but you would know that, sir... You once went to Hogwarts, right?" Harry answered in confusion.

"Yes, years do cause a man such as myself to overlook certain details. What I want from you, Harry, is to do your best in every Quidditch match you play in and win the cup."

"If that's what you'd like, then I will. But if you don't mind me asking... why?"

"No reason, my boy." William's eyebrows pushed together in contemplation. "Let's just say that Elizabeth and I will be at one of your games to watch you play."

"Really? That would be fantastic."

"Yes, we wish to see you play. I desperately wish to see how exactly excellent you are, Harry."

If Harry wasn't so exhilarated, he might have noticed that the man was lying through his tongue. "Alright then. I'll do my best, Lord Greengrass."

"That's splendid news, my dear boy." William laughed, patting Harry on the back and feeling proud of the boy.

"Harry..."

Harry stiffened and the temperature around him sunk rapidly. He spun his head to meet Lily's confused face.

"Ah, Lady Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you again." William bowed his head slightly. "How is life treating your family?"

"A pleasure to see you as well, Lord Greengrass. Our family is doing well, thank you for asking. It's been a while, hasn't it?" Lily returned the gesture, bowing her head as well.

"Yes, indeed it has. Unfortunately, I am unable to stay and catch up. My wife and youngest daughter are waiting for me and I have many official matters to attend to. I must take my leave, Lady Potter." Lily forced a smile upon her face, nodding politely. William smiled warmly at Harry, squeezing Harry's shoulder before vanishing into the throng of people.

Harry's smile for William faded. He twirled around to his mother, who was perplexed as to why his smile had so quickly disappeared. His smile was so cheerful, full of warmth and comfort, and she was just realizing how much it put her at ease. She discarded the people shouting her name and locked onto her son's gaze, distinguishing that her son had her emerald eyes. Both ended clashing stares when someone grabbed Lily's arm.

"Lily, Daniel is boarding the train! Come on, or you'll miss him! Sirius can only stall him for so long!" James said hastily, adjusting his daughter in his arms. Rosaline giggled at the crowd, so many people.

"Not now, James," Lily hissed, still gazing at her eldest son.

Harry stood motionless, as though his feet were glued to the ground.

"James, where is Lily? Oh, for Merlin's sake, your son is about to board the train! You're going to miss him!"

The agitated voice was none other than Molly Weasley, appearing at Lily's side.

Lily overlooked her presence, far too preoccupied on interrogating Harry. "Harry, tell me why you were talking with the Greengrass's?"

"The Greengrass's?" Molly and James mouthed simultaneously, one puzzled and the other horrified.

Harry smiled tightly, his lips twitching. "They're nice. I talk to them regularly. We have decent conversations. Nothing to worry about."

Lily could sense that her son was hiding something from her, she just couldn't tell what. Before she could say anything more, she was promptly interrupted.

"The Greengrass! You spoke to them? They're working with You-Know-Who!" Molly was appalled.

Harry restrained the immense urge to roll his eyes at the flabby woman. "Oh, is that so, Mrs. Weasley? They declared themselves to be neutral in the last war. They never sided with Volde-" Harry deliberately cleared his throat. "You-Know-Who." He often forgot the name was forbidden.

"Everyone knows that's a lie. They're a Dark family. They only said that to cover up the truth! I forbid you to talk to them anymore."

Harry's eyes twitched. "I would watch your tongue if I were you, Mrs. Weasley. It's a very serious offense to accuse someone without evidence. The Greengrass's have a major role in the Wizengamot, just as much as the Potter's, Black's, and Malfoy's. Their votes are vital, and if they happen to be nearby the next time you open your mouth, they could have ship you off to Azkaban in no time at all," Harry spoke, smiling sweetly all the while.

"Well, that's true," James agreed. "They are rather important figures in the wizarding world."

Molly scowled at James for consenting with his son and immediately reproached the father. Now that they were distracted, Harry promptly dropped his facade and scowled in irritation as he lugged his trunk to the train. He waved at Rosaline with his free hand and she innocently waved back.

Geez, that Weasley woman had no respect for privacy. She just intercepted in people's lives whenever she deemed it necessary. Who did she think she was anyway, forbidding him from socializing with the Greengrass's? They had taken far more care of Harry in the past three years than either his or her family. Harry was so engrossed in these thoughts that he failed to sense a pair of emerald eyes, so similar to his own, looking at his retreating figure. The owner to those eyes, was lost deep in thought, baffled as to why Harry hadn't bid her farewell.

* * *

><p>Harry was calmly gliding through the corridor of the train, walking with no direction in mind. One of the compartments suddenly swung open. Harry met the gaze of a pair of wide violet eyes. It belonged to a slender Italian girl with strikingly smooth black hair.<p>

Barbara Zabini twirled her hair. "Searching for a compartment, Potter? Care to join us then?"

Half-lidded eyes glanced over her shoulder, perceiving the three other females whose names Harry could not recall. He identified the two of them to be Slytherin, both in the same year as Daphne. The two girls, along with Barbara, were Daphne's roommates.

"No thanks, Zabini."

"My, so cold it gives me shivers. What a delight..."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Are you flirting with me, Zabini?"

"So what if I am? Though, Daphne would be angry with me. Very, very angry."

"What? Why would she be mad?" Harry's eyebrows crumpled in bewilderment.

Barbara rolled her eyes. "No matter how talented you are, Potter, you're still as clueless as ever when it comes to girls. You can't honestly tell me you didn't notice anything different about her? Or the other girls you're hanging out with all the time, like that Gryffindor," she said the last part with a sneer on her face.

"Cut the chase, Zabini. What are you getting at?"

"I'm not in a position to tell you that, Potter. If you want to know, ask her yourself. Daphne's my friend, so my lips are sealed." Barbara smirked at Harry's annoyance and the dissatisfied expression on his face. "Thankfully, I'm not one of your crazy admirers, so I'll never tell. Tough luck, Potter."

Her smug smirk was short-lived. She froze as Harry smiled appealingly at her and cupped her left cheek in his hand, rubbing it tenderly. "Really? Is that so? I seem to remember you cheering for me from time to time." Harry tilted his head, leaning in at close range.

He was luring in for her to see his alluring emerald eyes that were currently staring deeply into her own. Barbara's cheeks heated at an alarming speed, and her face soon drowned in red. She could have sworn there were steams emerging out of her ears. Inwardly, she cursed at whomever was responsible for creating Harry Potter. She knew damn well how handsome and dashing he was, unlike the other males in Hogwarts, and more than one time, she had received a front row seat to check out his well-built body when he showered in the Quidditch locker room. That was very Slytherin of her and her two mates. Merlin, they hadn't been able to sleep that night. They were too busy replaying the memory of his body over again and again.

"Now tell me, what's this about the girls?"

Barbara shook her head, stubbornly refusing to surrender. Her eyes went large as he shortened the distance between them even further. She could feel his warm breath. "Now, now, Zabini. I know you and your two friends over there snuck into the locker room last year. So naughty of you three..."

Her blush appeared to escalate even further, if that was even possible. Her breath became ragged and her eyes grew more wide at the surprise of being caught. Her friends inside the compartment blushed furiously at Harry's knowledge as well, admittedly not at the guilt or shame of being caught in the act. Rather, they were blushing at the memory of Harry Potter's body.

"Harry!"

The two shrieks caused Harry to shift his eyes at the voices. However, he did not let go of Zabini's chin. Barbara, herself, wasn't showing any signs of struggle and resistance. In fact, her eyes had by now clouded over in a haze. Daphne, Callista, and Regine were gaping at him, blustering at the sight.

Daphne stomped her feet, gritting her teeth infuriatingly. She moved closer to Harry and glared at him crossly. "What the hell, Potter!"

"Just grilling her about you. Zabini informed me that you'd be mad if you caught her flirting with me. I wanted to know why, but she wouldn't budge. So I used a different approach," Harry responded casually.

"What!" Daphne's face flushed red. "That's enough! You're coming with us!"

She grabbed the back of his collar and forcefully hauled him away from the other girl. "See you later, Zabini. Don't miss me too much..." Harry winked good-naturedly, smirking at her futile effort to dim her bright red cheeks.

One of the many things that gave Harry pleasure at Hogwarts was instigating for the opposite gender to blush. He had done it many times with the girls, especially when he was in a good mood. He was proficient in the field, so why not exploit it? Even Merlin approved of his behavior, affirming it to be a good way to relieve some tension. Regine and Callista seized Harry's trunk and dragged it with them, glowering at the Slytherin all the while. Barbara never noticed their glares, her mind still stuck on the handsome boy.

It crossed her mind that Harry Potter was a very dangerous weapon.

Harry Potter was, under no circumstances, afraid of anything. No danger could possibly shake his willpower. He took whatever fate threw at him with serenity. Nonetheless, luck seemed to be against him today. Harry shrunk into the compartment seat underneath four withering glares. This was the kind of situation he had not yet learned to handle. He reminded himself again to seek the answer to this dilemma with Merlin. How to deal with four beautiful, yet angry, teenage girls.

"This has gone too far, Harry," Regine growled, splattering the silence. "The first thing you get onboard the train is- is... _that_... instead of looking for us?"

"Um... What are we discussing again?"

Callista, who was generally gentle and rarely fancied violence, glared terrifyingly at Harry. "Don't go all clueless on us, Harry Potter. What were you doing, flirting around so blatantly? Have you no shame? What do you have to say for yourself, mister?"

Harry didn't even get a chance to answer before another person cut in.

"Slytherin, of all people! Why is it had to be them? They're sneaky snakes!" Sheila looked at the blonde girl, grinning sheepishly. "Of course, that's not counting you, Daph."

"So, technically, what you're referring to is the fact that you girls were all jealous that I flirted Zabini? ...Is it because you were jealous of the position Zabini was in? I wouldn't blame you girls for that, especially since the guy was me..." Harry's smirk spread at the blushes forming on each girl's face.

"Don't you dare even try to use that trick on us like you do to the other girls, Potter! We're not like th-"

Daphne abruptly discontinued her sentence when he moved closer to her. His right hand rested on the compartment seat as the other held her chin, purposely raising her head up so she could stare deep into his emerald eyes. The other three girls fell silent, their mouths slightly ajar for two reasons. Their only male friend had moved with astonishing speed and the sight before them was so, so hot. Chuckling, Harry dropped his teasing and released Daphne from his grasp.

"Don't worry about it. I am not interested in Zabini. It's just amusing to watch her blush. I'm not quite sure why you girls are so uptight about it..." Harry eyed the girls suspiciously. "As a matter of fact, why are you girls so mad? I mean, after watching me does it on so many occasions, you'd think you would get used to it by now. It's not like there's anything new..."

All four were strangely taken aback, their former blushes returning. Daphne folded her arms and looked outside the window. Sheila avoided Harry's gaze profusely, pretending she didn't notice as she whistled in familiar tune. Callista's eyes were glued downward, as if she had just discovered how fascinating her feet were. Regine plopped down on the seat next to the door and stared outside the compartment, apparently in search of someone.

They thought they could fool him after all these years.

"Well? I'm waiting for an answer here..."

Regine was the first to reply, spluttering. "U-uh, I-I should find Anna, she's probably lonely all by herself. I'll see you guys later." She sprang from the compartment, leaving the door ajar.

Seeing an opportunity, Sheila swiftly made an excuse for herself. "I need to find Wood, um... about Quidditch and stuff. You know what they say, planning ahead is the best way to prepare for the future!" She chuckled nervously and she dashed away from the compartment.

Callista cleared her throat and she rose to her feet, steadily avoiding eye contact with Harry at all cost. "There's something I wish to talk about with Penelope and Xi. I have to go."

"Clearwater and Li? What for?" Harry inquired inquisitively.

"Um... you know, Harry... preparation for this semester." Harry was about to say something, however, she had already gone.

He budged to Daphne, expecting a similar excuse. She merely stood and scurried out of the compartment, deserting Harry to himself. What the hell was that all about? Forget how long he had known them, he just would never understand girls. Heaving an exhausted sigh, he flicked his finger tiredly and the door snapped shut. Whatever it was, Harry could deal it sometime later. Right now, he really needed some sleep. It would be a long time before the train reached Hogsmeade, so it was best to rest. He was still tired from his training with Merlin. Physically, no, but mentally, yes.

* * *

><p>In the Potter mansion, Lily Potter quietly tucked her youngest daughter to sleep. She smiled softly at her child.<p>

They were the only two in the mansion. James had gone off to report to their boss with Sirius - both were Aurors. Both men, Remus as well, had worn a large grin all day. They were so proud of Daniel. But the mansion was far too silent now that Daniel was at Hogwarts. He would certainly be taken care of, she wasn't concerned about that. What gave her worry was the thought of how much trouble he would get himself in. It's in the Potter genes how troubles constantly chasing after them. She watched her daughter sleep soundly and dropped her cheek to Rosy's forehead. It wouldn't be long before her dear Rosy left her behind just like her brother... brothers.

**_A strange abnormal sound of bell-like echoed..._**

Lily inclined her head, forehead creased at the suddenness of a dashing boy with her emerald eyes floated to mind. She recollected how her son had reacted to her presence earlier. If she didn't know any better she would almost think that her eldest son's smile for her had been fake, unlike the way he smiled to the Greengrass family. Lily deeply respected Elizabeth Greengrass. She was a very beautiful woman who fit the role of a Lady, unlike her. They saw each other occasionally at formal parties, and that was it. Elizabeth had elegance and beauty itself, though the thought of her own son smiling so warmly at that woman… it raised negative feelings inside Lily Potter. Never before had she felt any hatred toward the Greengrass matriarch but now, she was starting to feel it.

She remembered their interactions, the way her son chuckled with Elizabeth Greengrass. The rough feelings inside Lily began to take shape.

When that woman had hugged and kissed her son so affectionately, it was as if Harry was her own son and with that thought, Lily's heart tightened and her hand clenched to a fist. What was more, her son had responded to the woman in the same manner, his smile never faltering. He never smiled to Lily like that. Lily had been forced to contain an immense urge to go over them. She knew she would only make a fool of herself in front of the people at the train station. All she knew was that she was jealous.

Detaching herself from her daughter, Lily walked to the door, pondering about her eldest son. The second before she entered the master bedroom, she halted in her steps. Her head gradually rotated until her eyes transfixed upon the last bedroom in the hallway. Her heart hammered just looking at it. Her feet started moving on their own accord and she suffered a dreadful feeling as she passed Daniel's bedroom. Reaching the door at the end of the hall, she hesitantly rested her hand on the knob. Her heart beats quickened, sweats trickled down her neck as she opened the door.

Peering into the room, she gazed around. She couldn't remember this room ever belongs to anyone but it seemed as though it had been occupied for a very long time. Confused, she moved to the bookshelves, attempting to remember who lived in here. Casting a swift glance at the books, she recognized them to be the books from the Potter library. Her eyes traveled to the singular bed, neatly in place. Now that Lily thought about it, the room was spotlessly clean. She couldn't remember any time she had ever cleaned this room. Come to think of it, she hadn't been in this room for... many years.

A memory of a raven-haired boy and herself flickered through her mind, both figures laughing as she tickled the boy on the bed.

Her brain was processing at a fast rate and she didn't like the way her stomach twisted inside her, the way she felt almost nauseous from the memory. Her eyes grasped in a pile of paper compiled neatly on the desk. She rushed to it. She lifted the first paper and was surprised to stumble on the Hogwarts seal. Scanning the paper, she recognized it to be a report card. What was even more surprising was the scores are all outstanding, including Potions and Ancient Runes. Each professor complimented his marks, encouraging him to strive more in his efforts, save for Potions, which was blank. Whoever had received this paper was the top student last year.

Lily's breath hitched once she came across the name, which was none other than Harry Potter, her eldest son.

The paper dramatically slid from her fingers and frantically, she seized another report card. Likewise, this one also detailed his exceptional marks. A report card for each year, and they were all the same. Lily nibbled her lips, her stomach twisting even tighter. Her eyes, then, trailed to the framed pictures hanging on the walls. She walked to one of it and witnessed four girls encircling her son. Harry was smiling in the middle, whilst the black-haired girl grinned widely, the blonde smirked, the scarlet-headed girl beamed, and the last one smiled softly. Each child was dressed in their school robes. It dawned Lily that each girl belonged to a different house and not to mention the fact that there was a Slytherin in their group. This was the first time Lily had realized that Harry was not in Gryffindor.

In fact, he was in Ravenclaw. The picture before her looked to be like it had been taken at the end of his first year.

Lily's heart constricted as soon as she saw a picture of Harry with the Greengrass family, Elizabeth hugging him tenderly from behind. William had his hand on Harry's shoulder and two of the Greengrass daughters sprawled across the floor, each bearing a smile to match Harry's own. There were more pictures, all including the four girls and even a few more with the Greengrass parents. Hagrid made several appearances, eagerly introducing the children to magical creatures in one. One of it was him grinning widely at them while the scarlet-headed Hufflepuff girl pulled Harry by the hand, passionate to learn more about the wonder of such dangerous creatures. And yet another photo, this time of Lily's own daughter, squealing cheerfully in Harry's arms.

Why had Lily never noticed any of this before? When was the last time Harry had taken pictures with his own family?

With the question fresh in her mind, she hastily took off to her own bedroom. Rummaging through the shelves, she flipped through the photo album, her teeth gritting in determination. When she found no photos of her eldest son, she threw the album aside and snatched another. But no matter how many photos she fumbled through, she simply couldn't locate her eldest son. Only Daniel and Rosaline. Where was a photo of him receiving his Hogwarts letter? Where was his first trip to Diagon Alley? What about his first time at King's Cross Station? Or his first time reading a book? His first wand? More importantly, where was his birthday? Pictures of him with his uncle, his siblings, or with her and James? Nothing. There was nothing. He was absent even from the Christmas photos. Tears instinctively slid down her cheeks, leaking profusely from her eyes.

Weeping silently, she abandoned the most recent album and grabbed another, determined to search what she was looking for.

She tossed the final album roughly when she came up empty. She mentally tracked through all of her memories from the previous years and understood that most of them consisted of Daniel and Rosaline. No Harry. She remembered, in all of these memories, having caught a blur of raven hair fading away whenever people gathered there, or even when Sirius and Remus came by to visit. She was certain it had been Harry, watching from the shadows as they all laughed and forgot he was there.

Her eyes widened as the realization hit her. She had forgotten his birthday all these years. Never once had she accompanied him to King's Cross Station, bought his school supplies or picked him up for the summer. When was the last time she had bought him anything? She gasped, horrified, legs wobbled and weakened. Covering her mouth with both hands, she contained her sobs. What kind of mother was she? What had she done? All this time he had been by himself. How had he managed that? It must have been lonely. He would never forgive her. After all, she wouldn't if she was him - she had left him to fend for himself.

Her tearful eyes landed on one final picture slithering out of an old book, a story book... Slowly and shakily she rose to her feet and moved to it. Seizing it, she raised it to her face and found a picture that had been taken long ago, when Harry was four and Daniel still a baby. It was before the Dark Lord incident. In this picture, they were having a family picnic in the garden, James securely holding Daniel as his other hand patted Harry's head. She herself was hugging Harry lovingly, stroking his hair and smiling at him. Harry laughed happily and clutched his small hands onto her gown strongly, his eyes sparkling with cheer and warmth, unlike now. She remembered his emerald eyes and how the light in it, faded when they met her own earlier at the King's Cross Station.

And that was the last straw for Lily Potter.

She broke down, crying loudly in the empty mansion. She clutched the photo tightly to her chest. Her heart was aching from the way she had treated her own son. Back then Harry was always seeking her protection, wanting to hold her, smiling whenever he saw her, forcefully yanking her to his room to read him a book. But now that had all changed. She never saw Harry smile genuinely at her anymore. If he smiled at her at all, it was fake. Harry's warmth of a four-year-old rushed flooding back to her, causing her to yearn for the warmth to return. Now, the damage had been done, and it was too late for her to mend it. She had neglected Harry, and this was the consequence. Her own flesh and blood had become a stranger to her.

**_The strange abnormal sound of bell-like chimed one last time..._**


	4. Chapter 3, Season 1

**Chapter 3.**

Whispers and murmurs filled the room, centered entirely on the Boy Who Lived. It seemed everyone knew he was to commence his magical learning at Hogwarts with the rest of the first years. Considering the front page of the Daily Prophet stated this, it was no surprise at all that each student knew. Harry yawned tiredly, his face resting on his left hand. He disregarded the blatant stares he was receiving from the females at the Ravenclaw table.

"Still sleeping, Harry? I would have thought you'd received adequate rest by now." Callista was seated next to him, clad in Ravenclaw robes, identical to his own. "You're okay, right?"

"Just a bit tired, that's all. I guess sleeping on the train wasn't enough for me," Harry yawned, discounting the squealing girls as he did so.

"Don't mind him, Callista. Potter is just lazy, he always has been. Why don't you just forget about him? He's no good to anyone." The haughty voice was from Roger Davies, who sat across from them. Each girl nearby glanced crossly at Roger.

Callista scowled irritably. "Mind your own business, Davies. Why do you have to butt in our conversations every time? And you know what, I never recall giving you permission to call me by my first name."

Hanging around with Daphne had converted Callista into an intimidating witch. Daphne continuously implored Callista into exploiting her temper, unleashing her fury as opposed to her gentle disposition. Also, Callista didn't care for Roger at all. Roger had always been envious of Harry, constantly referring to him as his nemesis and growing overly competitive in Quidditch tryouts, although he'd never made the team. But, Harry had never seen Roger as his competitor.

"Ignore him. He doesn't bother me at all." Harry situated his hand on Callista's own, squeezing it gently under the table.

Callista smiled, gently countering his squeeze. The reaction she got was another yawn and how callously her friend could reject her gestures. This irritated her more than anything and an angry vein popped in her forehead. Callista compressed Harry's hand between both of hers and squeezed very tightly. Harry snatched his hand back, rubbing it profusely.

"Bloody hell, woman! What the hell was that for?" The pain triggered Harry's memory, reminding him of Sheila's crushing hugs that so often left him gasping for air. Do all girls pack such strength?

"Well, now you're wide awake, aren't you?" Callista huffed. "Serves you right. And, mind your language, Harry, it's inappropriate."

"Geez... can't I ever get a break?"

Roger sent an irate glare to Harry, whose casual air bugged Roger considerably. He detested the fact that Harry Potter always ignored him. Not desiring to make a scene during the sorting ceremony, he did what anyone would, he moved to the end of the table, far away from Potter. And yet, Harry remained unaware of his departure. The grand door of the Great Hall opened, seizing everyone's attention, and Professor McGonagall led the first years in. Seeing the Scottish woman wordlessly place a four-legged stool in front of the first years, Harry drifted off to space, bored out of his mind.

His mind reverted to reality, a burst of applause erupted around him. He looked up to see patched, frayed and extremely dirty hat bowing to each of the four tables. Oh, that's the reason Harry had zoned off. Every year, without fail, the sorting hat's song bored Harry to death. As the transfiguration professor unrolled the scroll, Harry examined the first years idly. He caught sight of his little brother talking animatedly with the youngest male Weasley. The sorting commenced when Hannah Abbot's name was announced. As McGonagall positioned the hat on the girl's name, she was sorted into Hufflepuff. This process went on for several minutes and Harry sighed in boredom.

"Stop sighing at every person who gets sorted, Potter. Just shut up and clap your hands like everyone else." This emanated from Xi Li, Callista's friend and roommate. Like Daphne, her figure was slim and short, her eyes were dark as midnight, and her short, cropped navy hair was messy.

"Oh, have I irritated the infamous Li temper?"

Callista exhaled her breath noisily at her two house members, opting to pay them no heed and concentrate more on the sorting ceremony. It was just like Harry to deliberately infuriate Xi without any reason other than his own amusement.

Xi glowered at Harry. "Maybe Davies was right. You aren't any good to anyone."

Harry wasn't deterred by her glare. Daphne was much more of frightening figure when she was livid. A smirk graced Harry's lips once he spotted a young girl who looked eerily similar to Li in appearance. Pointing his finger, he asked Xi, "Is that your sister, Li? She looks a lot like you. She's starting this year, eh?"

"What of it, Potter?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all." Xi narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Xi admitted to herself that Harry did look more handsome than in previous years, and she was stunned at the muscles peeking out of his shirt. Shaking her head, she felt her cheeks slightly hot. She focused her attention back to the ceremony once more, reproaching herself for such thoughts. Her careless act did not go unobserved by a pair of emerald eyes.

"Li, Su," McGonagall called, and to her sister's happiness, the young girl was sorted into Ravenclaw. Su eagerly rushed to her sister, timidly smiling at all the clapping. The timid smile died down as soon as Harry introduced himself to her with his best alluring smile. Su blushed heavily and looked down to her lap. Xi's enraged glare developed into a flush of embarrassment once he directed his smile to her. Here Harry thought the bad-tempered girl was familiar with his smile.

Harry ditched his game when a blond boy seized his interest. Harry recognized that boy from somewhere. He was the sole offspring of the Malfoy's. The Greengrass family was never fond of them on account of the first war. The head of the Malfoy family put an effort to turn them into servants of the Dark Lord, claiming that it was their duty as a pureblood family of great wealth. "SLYTHERIN!" the hat announced after barely touching the boy's head. Malfoy arrogantly swaggered over to the table to join his two friends, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

Instead of sighing, Harry snorted, setting his eyes back to the front. Typical for a Malfoy to be in Slytherin, they're more likely to sully the house than restoring it to its former glory. Daphne wasn't thrilled with this latest development. She couldn't easily forgive the Malfoy's for what they had done in the first war. The Malfoy's had caused the other families to be wary of the Greengrass. The sorting continued, and there weren't many kids left. "Moon," "Nott," "Parkinson," followed by a pair of twins, "Patil," and "Patil," then "Perks, Sally-Anne," and last, "Potter, Daniel!"

"So, that's your brother, Potter?" Xi reclaimed her seat back.

"Yes, it is," he confessed grudgingly.

"Well, he's nothing like you, that's for sure. You look more like your mother. He's scrawny, and those glasses are just... well, horrible! Why can't the Potters pick more stylish glasses? Honestly, there are plenty of other glasses that are much more suited for this day and age. Thank Merlin you don't have to wear any at all - it would definitely hide your good looks."

Harry's lips threatened to split into a grin at her words. "What are you saying, Li? That, I'm more handsome than the rest of the males? Is that it?"

"Are you daft, Potter? That's exactly what I'm saying." Her head bobbed firmly. Her face reddened once the words sunk in on her. "Wait... N-no, t-that's not it! I... You... Ugh! You tricked me, Potter! You'll pay for that!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

That wiped Harry's smile clean off his face. The cheers were louder than it had been all night. One Weasley, Percy the perfect err... Prefect, shook Daniel's hand vigorously and the Weasley twins chanted that they got Potter. Harry rolled his eyes. It wasn't like his brother was the only Potter in the Great Hall. Now, there were only four people left to sort. "Thomas, Dean," followed by "Turpin, Lisa." The youngest Weasley male was next, who, like Malfoy, undeniably abided to his family heritage and became a Gryffindor, joining Harry's brother. The sorting concluded with "Zabini, Blaise."

To Harry's astonishment, the girl smiled bashfully in his direction and procured a seat next to her sister. The Italian girl was one of the occupants in the train, and looked exactly like a miniature Barbara. Harry shook his head to clear his jumbled mind. The world is just getting more and more interesting by the day. Albus Dumbledore beamed at the students, his arms open wide, as if nothing could gratify him more than to see them all.

"Welcome," the headmaster said. "To a new year at Hogwarts. Now, please enjoy the banquet, all of you! Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

Everyone clapped and cheered at the same time the food appeared. Famished, Harry loaded his plate. Eating elegantly, he savored the tasted of the delicious meals prepared by the house-elves. It was quite good, really good. Harry marveled why the Potters never had any elves. Not once had he stumbled across them in the Potter mansion. The Potters were one of the ancient and noble families. Logically, they should have had house-elves scurrying about the mansion. Harry shrugged inwardly. He didn't particularly care anyway. They probably just let the family handle their own home, bearing in mind that Lily was Muggleborn, and preferred to handle things the Muggle way.

When everyone had eaten to their fullest, the remains of the food faded from their plates and left them sparkling. Moments later, desserts materialized on the table, much to the delight of the first and second years. Harry was filled with pleasure at perceiving the many chocolate desserts and Callista stuffed her chuckles at his expression. It was no secret to the four girls that Harry loved chocolates. Slicing the enormous cake, Callista distributed it to Harry, who devoured the dessert. The girls reddened slightly as they caught sight of the bits of chocolate stuck to Harry's chin, so carelessly cute of him.

Callista chocked out a giggle, looking pointedly at the spot. She endeavored to cover her mouth with her napkin to limit herself from laughing too hard. It was futile. Harry noted Daphne's smirk at the Slytherin table and scowled at both girls, comprehending their meaning. Grabbing the napkin, he furiously wiped it off his face and continued eating his chocolate cake.

"Now that we are watered and fed, let us sing a song before we go to bed!"

The staff members' smiles had become rather permanent and several appeared to be force. "Before that, allow me to say a few words. First years, do take note that the forest on school grounds is forbidden to all students. I have also been asked by our caretaker Mr. Filch to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. And before my final announcement, I must ask all of you to take this very seriously. This year, the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone, unless you wish to face a most painful death. Everyone find their tune, now." Harry grunted, not looking forward to what would follow. "Off we go!"

Just like that, the whole school bellowed, singing the same song yet picking up at different times. The end of the song was trailed by the Weasley twins, as usual. They both slowed down their singing voices. Dumbledore's clap was the loudest after the song had concluded.

"Ah, music..." he said, wiping a stray tear from his eye."Now, then. Off you go. It's bedtime, so a very good night to everyone!"

Harry pursued Callista behind through the chattering crowd, oblivious to the giggling girls from other houses when he passed them by. Unenthusiastically, Harry dragged his legs in the direction of Ravenclaw tower, on the west side of the castle. People were still burbling excitedly about Daniel Potter. After a few days, the topic would be history and another would surface. Gossip came and went by in Hogwarts. The Ravenclaws came to a halt as they reached Ravenclaw tower. Harry failed to notice the Prefect lecturing the first years and proceeded straight to the bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. It began to stir as Harry stepped up to it. "Get on with the riddle."

"At night they come without being fetched, and at day they disappear-"

"-without being stolen. The stars," Harry interjected briskly.

"Your intelligence always exceeds my riddles. Very well done."

It swung open, revealing the Ravenclaw common room, which was unlike any other House's. The midnight blue carpets were enchanted with stars underneath the silky blue tapestries. The room was a wide, airy circle with a domed ceiling covered in stars. The graceful, arched windows provided a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains. Filling the room were bookcases, tables, chairs, couches, and another door that led to the dormitories. Next to this door was a platform, upon which stood a statue of Rowena Ravenclaw wearing her diadem.

"Who's that?" Kevin Entwhistle asked, tone laced in admiration.

"He's handsome and smart too…" came Mandy Brocklehurst's feminine voice.

"I know his name. He's gentle, polite, and charming. He introduced himself to me when I sat with my sister. He said his name was Harry Potter," Su Li stated timidly, face flushing.

The prefect girl smiled at the children's wonder. "Yes, his name is Harry Potter, making him the brother of the Boy Who Lived. But they're both very different. He's our own star - the brightest member of our house. We Ravenclaws are fortunate to have him, since he is the pride of our house. He's the reason Ravenclaw has won the house cup and the Quidditch cup for three years straight. And, yes, he's quite fetching, isn't he?"

"Whoopee, looks like Potter's getting more fans," Xi grumbled, glowering at Harry. "I can't believe how quickly my sister has become smitten with you, Potter. If you hadn't introduced yourself to her back in the Great Hall, this would have never happened! So that's what you were planning, you sneaky bastard? You ought to have been put in Slytherin, not Ravenclaw!" She, then, continued in rapid-fire Chinese, complaining and insulting Harry in words he would never comprehend.

Harry merely flashed a smile of his own. "Come on, Li. I know how mad you are that I haven't been giving you much attention lately, and I'm sorry about that. Why don't you stop lying and just admit it? After that, what do you say to us spending a little time alone together in an isolated place and..." Harry trailed off, leaving the rest to her imagination.

"What?" Xi squeaked, blush crept up to her cheeks. She struggled for a moment to toss some insults in his way, but ultimately failed, and she darted towards the girl's dormitories.

"Harry, stop flirting, will you? It's growing to be a bad habit for you." Callista scowled in frustration, holding a book to her chest. "And, an annoyance for me."

Harry chose not to comment on the last part, terrified of what might happen to him if he did.

"But, it's fun..." The moment Callista threw him her signature look, he lifted his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'll drop it, sheesh… Don't get your knickers in a twist. I think I'm going to bed."

"Good, you look exhausted. Just remember to wake up early for classes tomorrow."

Harry nodded his head wearily, feeling an incredible weight on his shoulders. "Goodnight, then..."

"Night, Harry," Callista offered softly.

Harry heard Penelope bid him a small "good night," and twisted his head to give her a brilliant smile, causing her face to burn red. Hearing Callista growl, Harry scampered off to the boy's dormitory. Ignoring his three roommates, he fumbled through his trunks for his pajamas. He closed the curtain of his four-poster bed and he plopped his body down upon the mattress.

* * *

><p>"I don't know what's wrong with her, Padfoot." James Potter peered worriedly between the slight gap of the door.<p>

"Maybe, she found out about your affair."

"What! I would never betray Lily, I love her too much to-"

"Easy, Prongs. I'm just trying to lighten the mood…" Sirius grinned mischievously.

"This is serious, Padfoot!" James hissed, not wishing to wake his sleeping wife.

"What you mean when you say 'serious' is not my name, 'Sirius,' correct?"

"Padfoot!" James warned. "You saw how she was! A complete mess when I got home... Thank Merlin, Rosaline was sleeping. Lily was clutching this photo really tight and crying hysterically, as if the whole wizarding world was about to meet its doom."

"Maybe you should take a look at that photo. That might give you a clue," Sirius advised solemnly.

"I tried, but she wouldn't let me see it. She threatened to hex my private parts and you know she's more creative than most when it comes to hexing."

Sirius burst out laughing. "Now that's the Lily I know!"

"Sirius, would you please focus on the job at hand? I'm really worried. She's been acting strange ever since Daniel left for Hogwarts. She keeps spacing out. D-do you think that's the reason?"

Sirius shrugged noncommittally. "You never know, James. Mothers can get awfully weird if it concerns their children. They have a special connection to each of them, seeing how they're the ones who gave their children life, and... Well, my mother is an exception, but maybe Lily just misses Daniel."

"Probably," James conceded uncertainly, although he disliked the way his heart was experiencing the same awful feelings as Lily's. Something was missing, James deduced. "But- but I don't know, Sirius. I feel like we're missing something here, something... I don't know! Just that, I don't like this feeling that I've done something I shouldn't have..."

Sirius clamped his hand on James' shoulder, squeezing it in support. "Look, I don't know what it's like to be a parent, but I do know that you need some rest right now. Your wife might need you more than you think. I have to go and meet Remus so we'll come by tomorrow to check on Lily." James nodded his head absently, not really listening to Sirius.

He entered the bedroom he shared with Lily and shut the door gently. Removing his glasses, he massaged the bridge of his noise. He placed the glasses back on and looked over the many albums scattered over the floor. Drawing his wand out, he cleaned up the mess and gazed back at his wife. She was crying silently on the bed, and his heart ached to see her so depressed. Even more saddening was that James didn't know the cause of it. He wasn't quite sure it was because of Daniel. His wife barely registered that Daniel was getting on the train earlier. Sighing at the frustrating lack of information, James resigned to comfort her instead of seeking out the reason.

* * *

><p><strong>15 September 1991<strong>

The second week in Hogwarts approached quickly and the biggest news in the castle was Harry's little brother. People leered at Daniel, often doubling back to watch him as he walked by. Words around Hogwarts were that Daniel was always seen with the Weasley boy, which didn't surprise Harry at all. Most students didn't ask Harry about his brother, probably out of fear. In previous years, any who had queried persistently him about it, usually ended up in the infirmary, much to Madam Pomfrey's disapproval. At least, they learned their lesson and fixed on dropping the matter.

After a few days, normal routine was restored to Hogwarts. The females learned to direct their attention to Daniel's brother, whom they realized was excellent in class, as the professors were bestowing more points upon him than any other student as they showered him with compliments, with the exception of Snape. The greasy bastard despised any person bearing the name Potter. Fortunately, Harry had inherited Lily's genius in potions and never lost house points in Snape's class, regardless of how much the professor pressured him. Harry brewed his potions calmly, smirking when the potions master blustered at the concoctions near perfection. His private lessons with Daphne in Potion, of course, aided him very much.

Harry had thought the man would have learned his lesson by now, but apparently Snape was incapable of maturing from his pettiness. Thankfully, though, the potions master was breathing down Harry's neck less frequently, as he had stumbled upon a new prey to torture. In the first week alone, Gryffindor house lost eighty points entirely, through Daniel Potter. Sheila complained each day about Snape's inequitable behavior and how unlucky it was for Gryffindor to house the Boy Who Lived. Snape had marked him like a hawk's prey. Daniel, for his part, relentlessly talked back to Snape, which only led to detentions. Everyone knew that talking back to Snape was a death wish.

Now, after two weeks of classes, the Quidditch trial was drawing near. Ravenclaw had booked the Quidditch field on Thursday for tryouts and as the day of the tryouts came closer, Harry's housemates were eager to participate. Harry was raring to go as well, though he refused to display the same silly excitement. He just slung his Nimbus 2000 over his shoulder and strolled across the pitch in his Quidditch uniform, Daphne by his side.

"I can't thank your parents enough for buying me this." Harry gestured to the broom.

"You've had that broom so long and it expired two years ago, Potter. When are you going to let it go?"

"Until I repay them."

Daphne scoffed. "It was a gift for your twelfth birthday, so suck on it. A gift, alright? Don't be so stubborn. You have to learn to forget the past. Gifts are meant to show people's gratitude and it was a way for my parents to show that they're grateful to know you."

"Grateful for knowing me?" Harry was in full disbelief.

"Yes," Daphne confirmed, tucking a strand of her blond hair behind her ear as the fierce wind assaulted them. "My parents are blessed at knowing you. It's a blessing to me too, Potter, and don't you forget it. Don't think your existence is pointless. If you do, I'll hex your brain out."

"You always know exactly what to say to me, huh?" Harry smiled, looking at her beautiful face.

"Toughen up, Potter. You'd lose without us by your side. You'd walk through life with no direction."

"I suppose so," Harry concurred softly. Silence conquered the air around them. Daphne stole a glance to her male companion, smiling a little at his handsome features, feeling the wind rush at them. It swayed their attire and ruffled their hair.

"Where are the other girls anyway? I thought for certain that Callista would be here with Regine to show their support. And Sheila... Well, that girl always makes up a reason to scout out her rivals or whatnot, and she never misses this," Harry voiced out in a slight morose tone. Daphne scowled in irritation at her friends' absences.

"I honestly don't know where they are at the moment," she said stiffly. Oh, those three would get an earful of shouting later on. Daphne would doubly ensure of that.

"Harry! Daphne!" The sound of their names being called out, had both fourth years to glance up.

"Where were you, Regine?" Daphne demanded.

Regine cringed visibly at that and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I'm late. I got hung up, helping Professor Sprout organize the greenhouse. I was lending her a hand, cleaning up the mess from the sixth year students' class."

"It's okay, Daphne. What matters is that she's here."

"Fine. Apology accepted. Now, where are Jonnet and Callista? They should be here by now."

"I thought I was the last person to arrive. They haven't arrived yet?" Regine asked in confusion.

Shaking his head, Harry kept on walking. The trials would commence in any minute now.

"I'll see you two later," Harry shouted over his shoulder. "Our captain doesn't react well to people being late."

That being said, both girls separated from him and walked to the Quidditch benches. Harry sighed, catching a wind of reproaching voice from Daphne. In spite of her closeness with the other girls, she was far too hard and strict on them. As Harry reached the middle of the Quidditch pitch, he came across a horde of people dressed in Quidditch attire. He wasn't too surprised to hit upon so many Ravenclaws attending for Quidditch tryouts. They could kiss their arses farewell if they were aiming to snatch his position as one of the main chasers.

Jeffery Barkain, a seventh year, extremely handsome student, captain and seeker of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, eyed Harry's late arrival in disapproval stern eyes. Harry shot the captain a bored look, standing behind a large batch of his housemates. He studiously ignored the competitive glare from Roger. He grunted when Jeffrey roared his welcome speech to all of the participants. Harry switched his attention elsewhere, to the stands, to locate his two friends among the crowd. It was somewhat uncommon for the Quidditch pitch to be filled with this many people.

His eyes took note of Regine and Daphne, who was reading a book she brought along with her. Typical for Daphne to read rather than focusing all of her attention to Quidditch. Regine met his gaze and she smiled, waving enthusiastically at him while mouthing 'good luck.' Harry's lips automatically curled into a smile. As he returned to his captain, his eyes snapped to attention, having caught a blur of blue hair next to a head of raven, spiky hair. He fluttered his eyes and swung both of it to the strange hairdos, eyes growing large. Both Sheila and Callista were advancing to the middle of the Quidditch field. What astonished him the most was that Callista was equipped in Quidditch gear, her right hand clutching a Nimbus 2000, identical to Harry's own broom. Harry recognized it to be Sheila's due to its red color.

* * *

><p><strong>20 September 1991.<strong>

"Sheila, what's this about? I have to meet Penelope in the library and you're delaying me right now." Callista attempted to beat a hasty exit, but her path was blocked by none other than Harry.

"Do you two have any idea what you've done!" Sheila said angrily, not heeding the students around her. She glared heatedly at the two girls in front of her. Her voice echoed all over the corridors. Harry threw a penetrate look at the students milling by. They cowered at the sight of him and hastened their pace. Extracting his wand out, he performed _silencio_ around him and the three girls.

"What are you talking about, Jonnet?"

"Don't play dumb, you two! Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Just get to the point, Jonnet! You're wasting my time here! I'm not deaf, so there's no need for you to repeat the same sentence twice! I don't want to be around a certain person right now," Daphne spat.

"Well, isn't that nice? What a coincidence. As a matter of fact, I don't want to be around a certain person either," Callista retorted.

"Watch it, or that tongue of yours won't be working for a long time. Don't forget how I taught you to duel and stood up for you whenever someone harassed you, or you got yourself in trouble."

Callista matched her glare. "I can show you that I don't need you watching my back anymore, Daphne. I'm not so helpless as to require people to attend to my needs. I could wipe you out anytime I want."

"Careful what you wish for, or that delusional desire of yours might be your greatest downfall."

"Want to bet?"

Both girls intensified their glares. They whipped their wands out, only to be disarmed by Harry. He glared furiously at them. The two girls were taken aback, never imagined that Harry would turn such kind of a look on any of them. "Do you even hear what you're saying? You both sounded ridiculous. When will this childishness end?" His patience for both girls was wearing thin.

"Exactly," Sheila affirmed. "It's been going on for five days now and it's all because of Quidditch? Why don't you use those intellectual brains of yours for once! Merlin, you two have been avoiding each other like a plague over something so stupid. What happened to you two? We aren't hanging out like we used to anymore…"

Callista and Daphne had been fighting each other for the past five days. They were both too livid of each other to remain in one room. Owning to both girls were evading each other, it resulted an effect to the entire group's friendship. It had started during the Quidditch trials. After Callista proved herself to be competent enough to get on the team, Daphne applied any means necessary to proscribe her from it, resorting to surreptitiously casting charms to give Callista a bad performance. By the end of the day, it was clear that Callista wouldn't be in the team.

Daphne was fueled with guilt when Callista spent the next day sulking, and opted to confess that Callista's bad performance had been her doing.

To say Callista had been angry was an understatement, she was beyond furious. She had an opportunity to be more than brains and Daphne had blown it all away. She didn't even care that Daphne had only done out of concern for Callista's health. Callista had yelled at the top of her lungs. Daphne, never fond of backing down from any argument, had raised her voice in the same manner to defend herself. Nevertheless, her protests were altogether dismissed by Callista. This led to a large quarrel wherein it resulted in both girls ignoring each other and refusing to be in the same room together.

"Oh, has the Gryffindor finally had some common sense?"

Sheila was flustered. "I'm here to set things right and repair our broken friendship, not to fight with you, Daphne."

"What's there to repair? I thought we made it quite clear that we're through."

"Callista, you don't mean that, do you?" Sheila pleaded, eyes glinting with sadness.

"If a certain Slytherin hadn't interfered my decision to join the team, then it wouldn't end up like this. Grow up, Sheila. None of us have expected this so-called beautiful friendship to last forever, don't we? It was a deluded thought, that's what that is."

"While I hate agreeing with you, it's true. Slytherin doesn't mix with the other houses. I was shunned by most members of my house because of it. Maybe that kind of thing should remain that way. I don't even know why I considered hanging out with you people in the first place. All of this was garbage to begin with, garbage that should have stayed in the rubbish bin and never been opened."

All three were stunned to hear this revelation. Daphne's eyes widened a little at her own words, but her jaws and eyes hardened. She faced away from the other girls. She didn't say anything as she moved to Harry, refusing to meet his emerald eyes despite how much she itched to do so. She merely acquired her wand from him and silently slithered away from them.

"She's right," Callista mumbled. "She's right. Never before have four houses united as one, especially if it would mean a Slytherin mixing with the other three houses. They watch their own backs. We are just a joke of the school, the five of us. This group should have never existed in the first place."

"What? Callista, you two are only arguing. It can't be that bad... I mean, what's important is the people, not the title, right? You said so yourself," Harry reasoned. Callista shook her head sadly, taking her wand from Harry and hurried her feet to the Ravenclaw common room.

"I never thought of that before," Sheila said, her enthusiasm gone.

"Not you too, Sheila..."

"Think about it, Harry. For once, I need to grow up. Gryffindor and Slytherin don't mix with one another, not even with a Ravenclaw. That's where all the braniacs assemble together, and it's not exactly compatible with the Gryffindors, who never use their brains since they're too impulsive. I should never have mixed with all of you. I was naïve, I always have been. Maybe this time… I should just stay with my own housemates." Sheila looked at Harry sadly. "I remember I was harassed by my housemates for hanging out with a Slytherin in my second year, but you made those people stop. I didn't understand why my housemates didn't like Slytherin. I thought that as long as I was with you guys, nothing else matters… Now, I understand that birds stick to their nests, and we stick to our houses. It's been that way ever since Hogwarts was built, that's what the house cup is for, right? And you know, it's because I hang out with you guys that my housemates don't trust me. They think I give our secret house information to the other houses." She chuckled humorlessly. "I'm sorry, Harry, but this is goodbye."

"Sheila, wait!" She sprinted off, leaving Harry by himself.

By mistake, Harry saw Regine hovering outside on the school grounds. She had been observing it the whole time. Harry was about to say something, but the girl clutched her books tightly to her chest and took off in the opposite direction. If he knew Regine half as well as he would like to believe he did, then she would blame herself for this, whether it was her fault or not. Harry blew out a heavy sigh. What had gone wrong? One tiny argument had severed all the friendship they had shared. Harry didn't care about some stupid rules or house rivalries. All he cared about were the girls. Without them, he would be lonely again, and that kind of loneliness was something he didn't have any desire to go through anymore.

He thought angrily that this only verified of how much pleasure fate took in twisting people's precious lives.

* * *

><p><strong>1 October 1991.<strong>

Daphne plopped down on her bed, staring at an old photo. A picture of four girls encircling a young Harry, was taken at the end of their first year. She hugged her feet to her chest and gazed ahead, lost in her thoughts. The curtain of her four-poster bed was seal securely, banning anyone from seeing her in such state. She couldn't believe she had said such unpleasant things to her friends, the same friends that had stood faithfully by her side for three long years. How could she blurt out something so recklessly without thinking? Sheila must have really been rubbing her the wrong way.

Chuckling soundlessly, she gracefully stretched her body across the bed, laying her head gently on the pillow. The back of her right hand rested across her eyes. Gnashing her teeth together, she tightened her grip on the photo, so cross with herself.

One simple, inconsequential argument between her and Callista had brought everything to an end. She hadn't heard anything from her former best friends for eleven long, lonely days. To think she shoved away the people she shared everything with was unbearable, and it was all her fault. She had only been concerned for Callista's health. She genuinely believed that the way Harry played Quidditch sometimes, was not at all a tremendous spectacle, given how easily he could injure himself. She grimaced at the thought of Callista going through all that. Of the three girls, Daphne was most close to Callista. She was willing to share every emotion she felt and every secret she harbored with Callista, they had so much in common. It was true, of course, that all three of them were her best friends, but if it was a matter of closeness, she would have select Callista.

Now they don't even talk anymore, and worse, Daphne had ruined their friendship. Daphne wouldn't be flabbergasted if Sheila never spoke to her again. Recollecting the way Harry had treated her in the last eleven days, it pierced her heart in the most painful way. What she feared most was Harry becoming a stranger to her. He had already done so the last time he'd seen her. He had given her a cold shoulder and didn't acknowledge her presence as they passed each other in the corridor. He probably blamed her, and she knew he would never forgive her for this.

Why couldn't she ever just swallow her pride? Callista had every right to be mad at her. If she hadn't meddled with Callista's personal business, none of this would have transpired in the first place. The one thing Daphne abhorred the most in the world was being lonely. And now, she was compelled to wear the same mask she had in her first year, faking her emotions because no one understood. She loathed every second of it.

Out of the blue, a small burst of fire flared into the cramped, stale air inside the four-poster bed. Daphne jolted upright. The fire abruptly died out and a single piece of parchment occupied in its place, hovering in the air. She snatched the parchment and inspected it, flipping it over. Her eyes tracked every word written on it, heart soaring as she recognized Callista's handwriting. Callista fancy meeting Daphne this afternoon at their usual spot by the lake. Little by little, the parchment fell from Daphne's hands, her grip slackened on it. This was her chance to repair their friendship. Her eyes hardened in motivation, bobbing her head confidently at the objective set before her. Opening the curtain briskly, she strode to the bathroom to freshen up.

If only Daphne knew the true, strange nature of the grand arrival of the parchment.

* * *

><p>Callista was proud of her intelligence and never boasted about it. She had never been one to get conceited over the abilities she possessed. The only person that could give her a run for her money in the intelligence department was Harry Potter. For eternity, she was placed as second best when it came to her yearly studies. Of course, as exams loomed nearer, she became more and more competitive, studying fiercely day and night, with the sole purpose of knocking Harry right off of his 'Number One' pedestal. And yet, always, she was incapable of beating him.<p>

Nibbling her bottom lip, she brooded over Harry. They hadn't talked for eleven days. Her mood dampened even further as soon as her mind waltzed over to Daphne. How could she have been mad at Daphne for caring about her health? This was all Callista's fault. All of it. She should have discussed her decision with Daphne and the others first, instead of just Sheila. How selfish she had been to confide only in Sheila, in the hopes that Sheila could train her and offer some much-needed pointers. If only she had informed the others of her choice as well, then none of this would have ensued in the first place.

She slammed her book shut, incapable of reading a single line from it. She surveyed the library around her, finding empty seats where her friends should have been. The last eleven days had been straight out of a horror story. She couldn't concentrate on her lessons, what with her mind constantly whirling back to the argument. No longer had Harry saved a seat for her, not in class, the main hall, or even the common room. What was worse was he no longer spoke to her. Her heart ached more each time he avoided her.

This whole thing was her fault, so of course Harry blamed her for damaging their friendship. She should have known of how much Harry cherished her and the other girls' friendships. He had spent most of his life wallowing in loneliness. Come to think of it, so had Daphne, although not due to any problems with her family. All Callista knew was that before they met, Daphne was lonely in the big castle of Hogwarts. She found it impossible to be social with anyone who didn't understand her. And now, Callista was left yearning desperately for their presence. She missed Sheila's enthusiasm, Harry's laziness, and Daphne's sarcasm.

Callista moaned depressingly. She dropped her forehead to her arms, folded on the table. She was murmuring to herself again and again of how brainless she can be. A bright witch in the class, her arse. When it related to friendship, Callista was an idiot of epic proportions. As she mourned this self-declared loss of intelligence, a burst of fire startled Callista, the same as Daphne. She straightened her back up, watching the blue fire with wary curiosity. The blue fire disintegrated before her eyes, leaving behind a single piece of parchment resting on the table.

Hesitantly, Callista retrieved the parchment and tried to decipher the writings, which she realized with wide eyes, belonged to Daphne. Daphne wished to meet her later this afternoon, by their usual spot at the lake. Smiling a little, Callista told herself that this was the opportunity she needed to mend her friendship with Daphne and the rest of them. Stuffing the parchment in her bag, she gathered her books to leave the library, hoping beyond hope that all would go accordingly.

Callista failed, just as Daphne had been, to notice the strange arrival of the parchment.

* * *

><p>Elsewhere, Sheila lazed about in the Gryffindor common room, sitting on the large sofa near the fireplace. She stared blankly and glumly at the crackling fire, ignoring the few other students lounging around her. She wasn't in the mood to converse with any of them right now. Merlin forbid them asking her to participate in some kind of activity. She had lost her enthusiasm over the past eleven days, simply as if it was just some organ she had puked up in disgust at herself, and flushed it down in the toilet. Her Gryffindor friends were more concerned of her with each passing day. She heaved a sad sigh and her mind wandered back to her former best friends.<p>

At this time of hour, they were normally hanging out together, laughing and teasing one another. Now look where they were, all of them up settled on never speaking to one another again. Sheila idiotically went along with it. What had gone wrong? In the previous years, she had been proud of her best friends. She had defended them vehemently, hexing those who insulted them, not caring if she got a detention for it. Admittedly, she hexed first before standing up for them. Such admirable loyalty would rival a Hufflepuff's. Helga would have killed herself to get her hands on Sheila. Sheila chuckled sorrowfully at the humor, only Daphne would have joked about something like that, and her tone would be positively dripping in sarcasm.

She ran a hand through her spiky hair, sighing. If only she hadn't agreed to train Callista in secret then none of this would have happened. At the very least, she should have prevented their argument from escalating. How useless of her. Not only did she fail to maintain their friendship, she had done nothing to avert it from shattering. Instead, she had admitted defeat, and give up entirely on the matter. She was completely hopeless to her friends. All this was her fault, yes, her fault. She had been the key to thwarting that awful disaster, and look where it had dragged her. That's right, she was to blame for tossing their friendship away so effortlessly, without putting up a fight. Because of what? House rivalry? Because her brain couldn't even compare to Daphne and Callista's? What a stupid reason.

She wondered if Harry would ever forgive her for this. Even if she was naive, she wasn't so naive as to not know how lonely he was because of how his family treated him. Their friendship was the only thing Harry had, and Sheila, who was supposed to be the most hopeful person in the group, had forsaken it. She recalled how he had refused to throw even a single glance in her direction when they met yesterday. Picturing his anger directed at her was something she couldn't face, let alone endure.

Sheila dropped her head into her right palm, thinking those words she'd spoken to Harry were right up there on that list of the most foolish things she had done in her life. She cried over how painful it was to remember the casual way in which Harry snubbed her whenever she neared him. When a burst of blue fire interrupted her, she clamped her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream. As with the other two girls, a single piece of parchment fell to her lap. Wiping her tears on the sleeve of her school robe, she picked up the parchment, eyes scrutinizing every piece of it. A smile crept across her lips. It had been sent by Daphne and Callista, a request.

Evidently, they fancy meeting her this afternoon, by their usual spot by the lake. She whipped her head from left to right, checking to see that no one was watching. Stuffing the parchment inside her robes, she stood and skipped from the common room. It was time to set things right.

How very typical for Sheila to overlook anything strange.

* * *

><p>Regine Barberis wondered to herself if she had ever been suited in any place.<p>

She wondered whether she belonged to Hufflepuff, or any other house, for that matter. One time, she had voiced the matter under the consideration of her head of house. Professor Sprout wholeheartedly disagreed with her, frowning as Regine confessed that she didn't belong to her house. The professor informed her she possessed every Hufflepuff trait there was. Loyalty, fairness, and her most valuable trait, hard work. Even so, this did nothing to elevate her sadness in Hufflepuff. Sitting in the library, she observed Callista entering. She had to restrain her body from moving toward her friend, refusing to submit to the temptation. She sighed in resignation as a group of first years chuckled silently at some joke or another.

She wondered if she had ever even deserved to have friends.

During her first year, she had been thrilled at the prospect of new friends. Gradually, others begun to isolate themselves from her. Hufflepuff was famous for their solidarity, and yet not a single student among them had been her true friend. Sure, on some occasions she had chatted to others, like that Cedric Diggory guy, but they weren't her friends. Regine was lonely. Ironic, really, how she was re-experiencing her childhood. Nobody liked her. Why? Was it because of her competitive nature? Or was it her existence that seemed to get everyone in such a tizzy?

From the moment she first heard of Hogwarts, she had thought of the place as the cure to her loneliness. All of that had ended up to be worthless dream. After meeting Harry by accident, her life had turned upside down. He was her hero. Through Harry, Regine was friends with the other girls. In due time, they became her best friends, and she was no longer alone in her days at Hogwarts. Each of them hailed from different houses, and being friends with each other fractured the whole idea of houses. They were the first group containing house unity, a fact that attracted many problems from the other less welcoming members of their houses.

These problems were swiftly solved by Harry, who trashed every single one of them - Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuff alike.

When he was made aware of the girls had been harassed by the upper years, he was furious. And when Harry Potter was angry, he was a frightening figure. History was created that year as the infirmary filled with people suffering from severe bruises inflicted upon their bodies and faces. What impressed everyone greatly at the time was the way he did it without using a wand, preferring instead the old-fashioned punch-and-kick. He paid for it dearly, however, with two whole months of detention and seventy points deducted from Ravenclaw. Now that she thought about it, Harry had broken free from his detentions and earned every last point back. How he did it, she had no idea. She supposed it was one of the reasons why he wasn't so popular with the males.

Regardless, he managed to resurface as his hero once again. Fumbling in the pocket of her robe, she extracted a photo. She sadly watched the motion picture - the same picture Daphne held - of a friendship that was no longer there. Her slender finger traced each face in the photo, loitering on Harry's. They weren't friends anymore because of her. If she hadn't accepted their friendship in the first place, then none of this would have occurred. She brought bad luck everywhere she went, she knew that. Her presence among them had caused a rift in their friendship. She recalled the way she had been doubtful at first. She had been sure that they would soon grow to dislike her, and she would become a burden.

Oh, right. She had. It was because of her they were breaking apart.

Tears welled in her yellow-gold eyes. She knew in her heart that she was in their way. Clutching the photo, she slunk it in the many pages of the thickest book she could access. She closed the book firmly. Standing up brusquely, she left it behind, never sparing it so much as a final glance. She ignored the looks from others and scurried from the library, walking aimlessly with no place in mind. Before she realized where she was heading, she found herself stranded at the large tree by the Great Lake.

She smiled. What a memorable place at Hogwarts.

She glided to the other side of the tree, craving for the view of the Great Lake. She sat on a large boulder and watched the water glisten under the sun, reflecting its light. She sighed in contentment, embracing the fierce rush of wind. For a long while, nothing disturbed the tranquility around her, and unexpectedly, a red owl perched on Regine's shoulder. She promptly whipped her head to the owl. Large, yellow eyes stared into Regine's as it hooted.

"Hey, girl. You got a message for me?" The owl shook its head as if it understood her words.

From the time Regine had been a child, she possessed the strange ability to interpret the meaning behind the movements and expressions that the animals made. Strangely, they responded likewise, apparently understanding her as well. She believed she was given this gift as a consequence of her loneliness, her lack of human companions causing her to seek other creatures to fill that morose emptiness inside her. That was the reason why she was so compassionate in studying magical creatures. It was this ability that hindered Mrs. Norris from reporting her to Filch whenever she felt like taking a stroll around Hogwarts late at night. In fact, the cat often accompanied her. Regine was fond of the cat, and was stumped why the other students thought of Mrs. Norris as nothing more than trouble. To her, Mrs. Norris was a harmless cat.

"Oh? Then what are you doing here?" The owl tilted its head. "Worried about me, are you?"

"Hoot!"

"Don't be. I'm fine… I just…" Regine swiveled her eyes back to the lake. "I don't know, girl... This is my fault. All of it... If I had never become friends with them in the first place, then their friendship wouldn't be destroyed right now. It's all because of me that they're not talking to each other. I-I bring people bad luck, that's it. Maybe, I'm better off by myself. I've been alone my whole life, so I'll be fine... A-as long as... as long as I'm far away from them, they'll go back to being friends again, right, girl? What matters is their happiness, not mine. I'll be fine. Because of them, I've finally grasped the concept of friendship. Now, it's time to return the favor. What do you think? Am I doing the right thing?" She transferred her attention to her owl, only to discover it was no longer there. "Girl? Girl, where have you gone off to? Ahh!" As soon as she rose to her feet, she was tackled to the ground by an unknown figure. Body lay against the thick lush, green grass, she peeked an eye and all she could discern was raven hair. "Sh-Sheila?"

Sheila lifted her head, stray tears on both her cheeks. "Regine, what do you mean by your fault? It was never your fault." The voice came not from Sheila, but Callista. Regine locked eyes with Callista, whose eyes were puffy red from crying. Her books lay forgotten on the grass, neglecting her beloved books, for once.

"I... I..."

"It wasn't your fault," soft voice interjected. Regine rotated her head to see a distraught Daphne kneeling beside her. Regine's eyes widened, seeing as she had never encountered a crying Daphne. Never had Regine witnessed tears trickling down the cheeks of the gorgeous blond, as they were now. "Don't say it was your fault... It wasn't. It wasn't, alright?"

Regine struggled to sit upright. "B-but I... it was my fault! How could you say it wasn't? If I h-hadn't met you girls then this - this wouldn't have happened! I-I..." Regine could maintain her composure no longer and her eyes became swamped by the ensuing sobs.

Daphne, not trusting her own voice, hugged Regine from the left. Callista, not wishing to be left out, rushed to hug Regine on the right. All three girls were appalled by how quickly they had forgotten how such a situation would affect Regine. She was as lonely as Harry. No words were spoken, no words were needed.

"It was my fault, actually..." Daphne whispered, ending the hug.

"No, it was mine! If I hadn't given up on your guys, then we wouldn't have to go through this!" Tears burst dramatically from her eyes and she assaulted Regine with another hug. "Now look what I've done! Regine blames herself when it wasn't her fault at all!"

"Must you be this noisy, Gryffindor!" Daphne cringed, covering her sensitive ears. When Sheila resumed her wailing into Regine's shoulder, it was the last straw for Daphne. "Shut up, Jonnet! If you don't shut it right now, I'll glue your lips together and you'll never be able to use that big mouth of yours again!"

Sheila stopped right away. "Just what I'd expect from a snake. Right in the middle of a charming reunion, she starts bossing me around. Well, I won't."

She childishly stuck her tongue out. Daphne, not fancying being outdone by her friend, stuck her tongue out just the same. The other two girls chuckled vaguely, before it transformed into a full blown loud laughter. It was so contagious that Daphne had to burst into a fit of laughter, suppressing it with the back of her hand, and Sheila gleefully joined in.

Callista gradually subsided. "The truth is, all of this happened because of me. If I had informed all of you that I was joining the team in the first place, we might have been talking in the last eleven days… I'm sorry for breaking our friendship. I'm so stupid."

"No one else can take the blame for this," Daphne announced with a scowl. "Didn't I admit it was my fault? If I hadn't intercepted Callista's decision then none of this would have taken place, ever. I should know better than to intrude in other people's choices. The fault is all mine."

"What? Oh no, you're not stealing this one from me! I should be the one to take the blame. I was the one who forsaken our friendship, throwing it away like it wasn't important. So don't say any of this is your fault, because it's mine! And I won't take 'no' for an answer." This launched the girls into a lengthy argument over whose fault it was. Regine frowned, weakly trying to placate them down.

"I'd say it was mine, but I can't come up with any reasons to take the blame, so I guess I'm clean, huh?" A new voice triggered the girls to terminate their argument instantly. Four pairs of ears perked up at the familiar tone and their hearts leapt to their throat. Frantically, they rose from the ground and searched for the speaker. "Up here, in the tree."

All four hoisted their heads to the sky. There, up on a branch, Harry Potter was leaning his back against the thick trunk of the huge tree. He gracefully jumped down from the tree. Feet on the ground, he dusted the dirt off his robes and approached the girls with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The girls tried to speak, but found it was very hard to. To Sheila's own frustration, not even her. Rummaging his robe for something, Harry handed an old familiar-looking photo to Regine.

"I believe this belongs to you." Tearing her gaze from those deep emerald eyes of his, Regine's trembling hands grip on the photo. She smiled at the photo before redirecting her teary smile to Harry, launching herself at him with a hug. Harry returned the gesture in full of awkwardness, still unease to being touched. Sheila grinned and involved herself in it, hauling Callista and Daphne in to form a group hug. "Okay... I'm pretty sure I'm the luckiest bloke around. I mean, how many guys would kill to switch places with me right about now, getting hugged by four attractive girls at the same time." Harry cleared his throat, blushing. The girls weren't listening to him. "Alright, that's enough. Can you let me go now, please? Four of you at once is plain uncomfortable."

It was true. Regine embraced him around the front, Daphne and Callista by his sides, and Sheila from behind. Their hugs were rather intimate, too, and their developing chests were mashed against him. Harry prayed to whatever deity that the girls wouldn't detect his member was stirring down below. Any guy would feel uncomfortable in this kind of position. Who wouldn't? The girls reluctantly separated themselves from Harry. The male puffed out a heavy sigh of relief, controlling his raging hormones and his hot face in check.

"I thought you were mad at me, Harry," Callista spoke in a soft tone.

"So did I..." Daphne murmured.

"Me, too!"

"If I was angry at you three, I wouldn't have busted my arse sending those pieces of parchment to you." By their staggering looks, Harry suspected they finally understood.

"What parchment?" The other girls soundlessly supplied their parchment to Regine.

"Oh, this... this is impressive, Harry. You managed to copy Daphne and Callista's handwriting?"

"Are you nuts? There's no way I could copy anyone's handwriting, not with ink and a quill. Only people who have lost their grip on sanity can pull off something like that. That's where magic comes in handy, Regine. I had to schlep through all sorts of books to find a charm that can alter your handwriting to imitate someone else's," he said the last part in a tone of annoyance.

"So, you went through all that because you missed us?" Regine concluded with a grin.

"Well, well, what do you know? Even the mighty Harry Potter has a heart." Daphne smirked. "Did you really miss us that much, Potter?"

"No, not really." Harry shrugged his shoulders carelessly and all four girls were taken aback.

"You didn't miss us one bit?" Callista asked, horrified.

"Nope... Actually, I've been pretty busy these days. I found some other... companions while you girls weren't around..." Harry treaded the words in a great care.

"What do you mean!" Sheila exclaimed. She couldn't believe what she was hearing and she wasn't the only person in a state of disbelief. The other three girls were also shocked by his statement. They had already been replaced by someone else?

Harry blinked, tilting his head and narrowed his eyes towards Hogwarts. The girls followed his gaze in bewilderment. Suddenly, with a whoosh of wind passing by them, they watched Harry Potter ran towards another girl. "Li!" Harry giddily waved his right hand at the girl.

The girl's eyes fluttered at the sound of her name. As she realized who it was, her face heated. "S-st-st-ay away from me, Potter!" she stammered, dashing away from him.

"Li, where are you going? I thought we were going to spend some time together!"

"I told you to stay away from me, Potter! Stay away! Are you deaf or something?" Xi cried out. "Damn it! Stop following me everywhere I go!"

"Well, that's a bit of a disappointment," Harry muttered, watching the Asian girl run. He transferred his gaze to a new prey, an Italian girl named Barbara. She walking by, accompanied by her two friends. Harry rushed over to her. "Zabini!"

The three girls abruptly halted in their tracks. "P-P-Potter, w-what do you want?" Barbara's cheeks flamed at having him eying her up and down with increasing lust.

"What can I say, your beauty is what draws me in. I just couldn't resist." The girl blushed harder at his words. "So, Zabini, there's a trip to Hogsmeade this weekend. Want to go?"

"Y-you're asking me to go with you, Potter?" Incredulity was written all over her face.

"Of course, why wouldn't I? You could bring along your two friends, as well. I don't mind being hogged by three girls. What say you?"

Who cared if she had to share him with the others? Barbara was not going to miss this opportunity. She was poised to answer him when the temperature around them plummeted. She quivered fearfully, eyes frozen over Harry's shoulder. "Sorry, Potter. Maybe some other time," she said hastily, yanking her two friends away in a mad escape. Harry scrunched his forehead at this, puzzled.

"Harry Potter." The sound of Callista's acidic tone had Harry straightening his back.

"You've been flirting around, haven't you?" came Regine's voice.

Gulping, Harry reeled around. "N-not likely..." He cursed himself for the stutter.

"So that's what you meant by 'company,' eh, Harry?" Sheila said sweetly, fury evident in her eyes.

"Sort of."

"How many?" Daphne said in a low voice.

"U-um, not many..."

"How many, Harry Potter?" the four of them chorused.

Harry backed away, his face pensive. "Don't know, I lost count. Though, there's this one time I flirted - I mean, talked- talked! with the head girl for a little while. You girls should've seen her face, it was all red-"

That was the last nail of Harry's coffin, causing _Diffindo, _a severing charm, to zoom his way.

He ducked his head to avoid the spell that almost cut his head clean off. Dodging another spell, Harry sprinted away from the girls, heading for the forest. He jumped to his right as another spell sped his way, one he didn't know. Watching where the spell hit as he ran for his life, he saw one of the many trees burst into flames. That was definitely from Daphne. Were they trying to kill him, or what? His lips instinctively curled into a smirk, as this indicated the matter had been resolved. It had taken quite a bit of time, but ultimately everything had gotten back to normal.

He had to thank Merlin for teaching him the spell that sent messages to anyone he wished. It merely required him to utter the right incarnation, followed by the person's name. One thing for certain, you had to love ancient spells. It was similar to owling, but faster, more or less instantaneous. He believed it was a waste of time during the summer, but it had finally proven its use to him. Yelping as another spell struck the tree beside him, he increased his pace. Right now, he really needed to survive. Seriously, mental note to self - seek the answer to this problem from Merlin. How do you handle four beautiful, furious girls?

* * *

><p><strong>31 October 1991.<strong>

After that horrid incident, things generally returned to normal. The girls became inseparable and Harry realized the incident must have dealt a huge blow to each of them. At the very least, it had dealt one to Harry. Who knew that without his friends, his life lacked the appeal they brought, not to mention how lonely he would be without them. He was immensely pleased that everything had gone back to the way it was. He still managed to find at least one time a day to spend time with the girls, despite his rigorous schedule of classes and Quidditch practice. Damn his captain, Jeffery Barkain! He's demanding as ever!

Halloween is just around the corner and it's by far Harry's least favorite holiday.

Glancing up, a thousand bats aggressively flapped their wings under the ceiling, above the other thousand bats that were swooping over the tables in black clouds. The wind caused the candles resting in jack-o-lanterns to flutter violently. Grumbling, Harry plopped his head into his right palm to inspect the decorations tediously. Oh, how he hates Halloween. Even the girls could see that it was going to be a very awkward day for them. Callista tittered nervously when Harry stuffed the baked potatoes down his throat furiously.

Without any sign of warning, Quirrell came racing into the Great Hall with his bizarre, smelly turban wrapped tightly around his head. His face was ashen white, as if the vampires he so desperately feared had come for him at long last. Inelegantly munching his food, Harry studied the man's movement as Quirrell reached Dumbledore, slumping over the table and breathing heavily.

He inhaled a rather large gulp of air before gasping out a breathy sentence, "Trolls... In the dungeons... Thought everybody would like to know..." And just like that, he fainted.

Chaos overtook the hall while Harry whistled in astonishment. Now that's not something you hear everyday. How the heck had a troll gotten into the castle? A troll? A bloody troll with a mindless little brain? If Harry had to guess, someone must have lead the beast in. Why must he waste so much time thinking for nothing? This didn't concern him at all. Why should he care? Shrugging his shoulders offhandedly, he helped himself to another load of baked potatoes, completely ignoring the chaos around him. Nothing could be done until the students around him calmed down, but not even the fireworks set off by the professors did anything to bring silence. It was only when Dumbledore hollered that silence finally fell over the hall.

"Prefects!" Dumbledore bellowed. "Lead your houses back to their common rooms!"

"Didn't Quirrell just mentioned it to us that the troll is somewhere in the dungeon?"

Callista's expression turned to worry and she peered at the Slytherin table to find Daphne's anxious face.

"Harry, we should tell the professors." Folding his arms together, Harry shut his eyes mildly and took a huge breath. "Harry! This is not the time to act calm!"

When Harry didn't respond, Callista ditched him with a rare scowl on her face and sped over to the professors' table. Meanwhile, Harry focused intently. A single bead of sweat streamed down his face. Knitting his eyebrows together, he tried very hard to sense where the troll was. That was one thing the old man had taught him. If you descend into a blissful meditation, you may able to sense other magical beings within a close range. It was very hard to master this specific technique, and had in fact taken Harry a month to do so. Every magical creature had a magical core which kept their life force sustainable. So Harry could use the troll's magical core to locate the beast. Harry sensed Hogwarts' own magical core, as well as the cores belonging to the students and professors. Dumbledore's magical core was the largest, without a doubt.

Then, strangely, Harry sensed two magical cores in Quirrell. Weird. That was just like his little brother. Harry scowled, that had nothing to do with the task at hand. The most surprising, however, was the Forbidden Corridor on the third floor. It held one of the largest magical cores in the castle, there was some kind of Cerberus guarding it. Harry had some fuzzy feelings gurgling inside him about the owner of that Cerberus. Veins sketched over his forehead as he sensed a larger one, a dark magical core on the seventh floor, giving him a real headache. Whatever it was, though, it wasn't his concern. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he concentrated on his objective. He grimaced when he discovered the troll. Out of all magical creatures, Harry abhorred the troll's magic. He snapped his eyes open, his breath labored.

"It's on the third floor, heading towards the girl's bathroom. Daphne will be fine, although there's another girl in that area..." Harry mumbled to himself, sighing lazily at the obligation to rescue her before him. Why was she there in the first place, anyway?

By pure luck, Harry caught his brother looking guiltily and longingly at the door. Little by little, a scowl worked its way across Harry's face. His brother knew something. Standing abruptly, Harry glided to his brother, avoiding the crowds. Percy Weasley was then completely in his element, ordered the first year to follow him. Not wanting to lose them, Harry trailed behind clandestinely. Harry sensed an opportunity when his brother became lost in his own thoughts, lagging behind his housemates. Harry grabbed the collar of his brother's shirt and clamped his hand over Daniel's mouth to stifle his scream. Yanking his small body away from the others, Harry hauled Daniel to the corner of the corridor.

"What did you do, brat?" Harry asked, shoving his brother into the wall.

"H-H-Harry! I-I haven't seen you in a while," Daniel stammered, so shocked to see his brother.

It was true. Ever since Daniel had arrived at Hogwarts, he and his brother hadn't exchanged a single word. Of course, he knew how many people talked about Harry. Mainly girls. Everywhere he went in the castle, someone was talking about Harry Potter. He hadn't known his brother was that popular at Hogwarts.

"Enough with the pleasantries. You know something that the others don't. I want to know what you've done now."

"What makes you think I did something?" Daniel snarled. "Is this how you treat the sibling you haven't spoken to in ages? Accuse him?"

"The only sibling I have goes by the name Rosaline Potter. Read my lips and open your ears - Rosaline Potter. There is no Daniel Potter in there," Harry countered, matching Daniel's tone.

Daniel was gob-smacked by the statement. He had known that he and Harry weren't that close, but for his brother to declare that they weren't even siblings caused a nauseating feeling in the pit of Daniel's stomach. Seeing that his brother had submerged into one of his daydreams, Harry grabbed the little boy's body and shoved him roughly against the wall a second time. Daniel winced in pain, his brother was just as strong as the rumors indicated.

"Stop changing the subject. What did you do? I saw you swallowing your guilt back in the Great Hall, so spit it out, brat."

This time Daniel answered stringently, defending himself, "It wasn't me! It was Ron! Ron said something horrible to Hermione. She wasn't supposed to hear it, but she did, okay? I didn't do it, I swear. I'm just worried about her. She didn't come to class and I didn't see her in the Great Hall, either. I was about to search for her, myself. She doesn't know there's a troll in the castle, nobody warned her..."

Gradually, Harry slackened his grip on his brother's shoulders. "Okay... go, then. What are you waiting for?"

"Parvati - a first year like me - said Hermione was in the girl's bathroom, crying. I'll go check there," Daniel said solemnly, already running in that direction.

Harry stood in disbelief. This was the first time he had ever seen his brother be so... so.. well, so damn noble. When Harry thought about it, though, he never had gotten to know his brother personally, had he? Pursing his lips, he shoved both his hands into his robe pockets. All this time he had assumed he knew his brother, just from the way he had judged him from afar. Harry would see if he was as noble as his actions suggested. Perhaps it was just an act.

"_Effingo abl invisibilium," _Harry muttered the incantation.

He was very much aware of his body becoming invisible to everyone's eyes but his own. This was probably the spell Harry had found most useful over the summer. Mischievous ideas had immediately popped into his mind when Merlin told him about it. It was the same as having an invisibility cloak, except that his movements were completely free and unrestricted by having to wear a cloak. Shaking his head, Harry casually walked behind his brother.

"Daniel, mate, there you are! I've been wondering where you were. I snuck out when Percy wasn't looking." Harry restrained a grunt as the Weasley boy suddenly appeared. Harry may have been invisible to them, but that didn't change the fact that they could hear, smell, or touch him. Face-palming at his own stupidity, he cast _silencio_ around him.

"Ron, that's not important. It's Hermione."

"What about her?"

"She doesn't know about the troll!"

Ron bit his bottom lip uncertainly.

"Oh, fine," he snapped. "But Percy better not see us."

They hurried to the girl's bathroom when unexpectedly, Daniel glanced behind.

"What is it, mate?"

"Nothing," Daniel shrugged Ron's question off, looking over his shoulder and marveling at how quickly his brother had disappeared. As if on cue, Harry had to grin. As much as he hated to admit it, it was fun to be invisible. "Come on, let's warn her."

Ducking their heads, the boys joined a group of Hufflepuff, then slipped away, down into a deserted corridor and sprinted off to the girl's bathroom. Harry pursued not far behind, smiling nonchalantly with both hands shoved into his pockets. Along the way, they encountered Snape. Harry heard everything his brother and Ron whispered about the potions master. For whatever reason, Harry took extreme interest in this. As quietly as possible, the two boys crept along the next corridor, following after Snape's fading footsteps. And just like that, they all caught whiff of the foul stench. Building an ugly face, Harry pinched his nose. The troll was nearby. That was one reason Harry loathed having to sense the troll's magic, every bit of it was disgusting. Then, within a few seconds, there was a high, petrified scream.

Daniel and Ron shared a look as they shouted together, "Hermione!"

Harry rolled his eyes at their idiocy. Where they really this slow? He tagged along as the boys rushed to enter the girl's bathroom. Harry stepped inside and came upon a twelve-foot tall mountain troll, who was knocking the sinks off the wall and it was nearing Hermione. Harry blinked his eyes at the sight. One hit from that huge club and they would be goners. He looked at his brother's alarmed face.

"Ron, buy me some time to get Hermione out of there!"

"What should I do?"

"Distract it!" Daniel begged desperately.

Harry pursed his lips in disapproval of this plan, though he supposed it was a good enough thought for a first year. Observing the scene before him with interest, Harry leaned against the wall. Oh, they managed to confuse the troll well enough for Daniel to get Hermione out in time. Harry applauded them for that. The problem was that the poor girl was frozen solid, her mouth hanging open in pure terror, her face drained of color.

Harry's eyebrows shout up and he distanced himself from the wall he was leaning against as the troll went berserk. All the shouting and screaming had driven it crazy. Harry raised one hand at the troll, intent on casting a simple powerful cutting hex on its head. No matter how thick its skin was, it had no hope of holding off a direct attack to its head. He hesitated for few seconds. If he do this, then he will expose himself to the rest of the world and he truly didn't want that. The troll was getting angrier by the second. Just when Harry was on the verge of meddling in the mess, his brother did something that was both courageous and very, very stupid.

He took a great running jump and fastened his arms around the troll's neck. What the hell? Was he trying to wrestle the thing? However, what he did next was completely beyond Harry's wildest imaginings. Daniel stabbed his long wand up the troll's nose and screamed a _reducto_ curse. The troll's head splintered to pieces as the rest of the occupants took cover from the splashing blood and yucky stuff. Harry evaded the mess skillfully. No way was he going to get his clothes dirty.

The troll plummeted to the ground with a great thud, shaking the entire room. Daniel was the one enveloped almost fully in the gross liquid. Harry was amazed at his brother's performance. To be fair, two high-ranking Aurors had nurtured Daniel since he was a child, so one of them must have taught him the spell. Nonetheless, Harry was astounded by Daniel's ability to perform a third year spell in his first year. He was beginning to realize that Daniel might have the potential to become a great wizard.

"Is it... dead?" Hermione was the first one to speak, gazing at Daniel in awe.

"Y-yeah, I-I think so..."

"Bloody hell, mate! That was wicked!" Daniel had the grace to blush at Ron's compliment. "You beat a troll! A bloody troll!"

Harry stared at the troll's body, half of the head was nowhere in sight. He gazed back at his brother, who was struggling to get the troll's blood off of him and wiping his wand over some lumpy gray glue on the troll's trousers. Harry's eyes lingered on his little brother. Perhaps, he ought to reconsider his opinion of his brother's character. The kid may enjoy the attention people basked him in, but he really was a great person at heart. Harry wheeled around to leave them by themselves. The brat sure was noble. No wonder he was in Gryffindor. Just in time, the professors rushed to the children. Harry took the opportunity to escape the scene.


	5. Chapter 4, Season 1

**Chapter 4.**

**9 November 1991.**

A week passed by, with nothing fascinating happening. The usual routine returned, identical to before. The troll was the only thing that had amused Harry, but that amusement had reverted back to boredom the very next day. The week was rather annoying for Harry, as the rumors about the troll being dead had spread around Hogwarts, everyone knew about it. Harry was sick of hearing about the troll everywhere he went, most noticeably in the Great Hall.

Harry was so used to rumors that they hardly annoyed him anymore, but what irritated him was the Weasley boy's never-ending boasting about the troll. He never shut his mouth about it, telling anyone who would listen that he was the one who had coached Daniel to defeat the troll. What a nuisance. When Harry was in a very bad mood, he had been forced to hang the Weasley upside down in the Great Hall in the middle of his bragging speech. As soon as Harry had done so, all of his frustrations had poured out of his system. He had smirked at Weasley's look that day, and his act had brought a round of laughter to the Great Hall.

It had surprised Harry that his brother hadn't been the one to brag about his victory. As far as Harry could tell, Daniel had piped down about the whole fiasco. The incident had probably dealt him a healthy dose of reality. He noticed the Granger girl was now hanging around him more often. That might be a good thing, the girl would unquestionably keep him in line and prevent him from doing anything foolish, not to mention save his arse in a life or death situation.

"Have you noticed how different Sheila has been today, Harry?" Callista formulated an idle conversation.

Harry smiled slightly, recalling the perky girl. "Yeah, she was pretty confident and excited. You know how much she loves playing Quidditch. Do you think Gryffindor will beat Slytherin today?"

Early in the morning, he had wished the perky girl well in her game to which she hugged him enthusiastically, creating some excuse about how the hug was good luck and all that. Harry had shrug it off, thinking it was a girl thing.

"Nobody knows, Harry. We can predict the future, but we can never guarantee it will happen." Callista sliced chocolate pie and handed the pie to Harry, who took it gratefully, before cutting another slice for herself.

"I'm just asking, okay? You know, for making a bet or something…" Callista looked disapprovingly. "Not that I'll be doing that anytime soon," he added hastily, grumbling that he wouldn't be able to wager his galleons.

"You'd better not stake your galleons on something like that, Harry Potter, or else you'll have to answer to us," Callista threatened, pointing her spoon menacingly at his face "We won't be happy if you pull some silly stunt like that again, especially Daphne. Her parents gave you those galleons to spend wisely, not on something as ineffectual as a Quidditch bet."

Harry grunted, shoving a spoonful of pie in his mouth. They were joined by Regine, who sat on Harry's other side as she stretched her hand out for bacon. Nobody minded this, frightened if they produced a comment, they would be forced to confront Harry Potter's wrath. It still made them shudder to think of the events of Harry's first year. Fortunately, each year, every first year was warned to never, ever cross Harry Potter, nor make any scathing statements to his companions.

"What's with the glum face, Harry?" Harry harrumphed, thrusting another spoonful of pie into his mouth. "Callista?"

"Don't mind him, Regine." Callista rolled her eyes. "He wants to gamble, but I won't allow him."

"Harry, how many times do we have to tell you? Gambling isn't good for anyone. I still can't believe the staff allows the Weasley twins to arrange it." Regine straightened her attractive, cascading scarlet hair with her fingers. "Besides, Daphne will never forgive you if you spend your money that way."

Regine offered him some bacon instead, which he snatched and shoved into his mouth without looking at her. Rolling their eyes, both girls shook their heads at his immature behavior. "I think we spoil him too much for his own good, don't we Callista?" Regine whispered in a low voice, grinning.

"Yes, of course, should we lessen it?" Callista murmured softly, returning the grin.

"It's not like you two are sitting beside each other, I'm sitting right between you!"

"Are you, Harry? Oh, gosh, I hadn't noticed. Had you, Callista?" Regine asked innocently, fluttering her eyes.

"So sorry, Harry. Guess we didn't know you were there." The girls burst to giggles at the look on his face.

"Fine, make fun of me and have your laugh. Let's see if it's funny when I flirt with the other girls and ignore you two for the rest of the day."

The girls abruptly concluded their laughter, glowering irately at him as well as remembering his last flirt an hour ago.

"If I find you flirting again, Harry, I'll use that curse I learned from Daphne."

"And, I'll let one of Hagrid's nasty creatures to play with you." Regine scowled.

Harry smirked at their words. "My, so possessive..." He smiled, turning his charm on full force.

Their faces reddened and both turned away from him. The other girls around him blushed at his smile, dropping what they were doing to concentrate on his handsome face.

"Potter, that's enough. You're causing a scene here," Daphne rumbled from behind him, folding her arms and eyeing him with criticism. Harry merely smiled at her, causing her cheeks to turn pink. "I said enough! We're going to be late for the match, come on!"

She spun around and scurried out of the Great Hall. The two girls hastened to Daphne's side. Rising to his feet, Harry sent one final charming smile to the girls at the Ravenclaw table and he chased after his friends. Harry caught up to them outside the castle, making their way to the stands. Harry admired his surroundings, bright and cold, as he towed behind the girls. By the time the clock struck eleven, the stands were filled by the entire school. Harry and the three girls were in the middle, taking the bottom seats. They each had their own omniculars to watch the Quidditch plays.

"Welcome! Welcome to all the ladies and gentlemen out there! I'm Lee Jordan, your commentary for the rest of the Quidditch matches! Remember, my name is Lee Jordan, so if any of you single, hot ladies out there-"

"JORDAN!" McGonagall roared.

"Sorry, Professor... All right, folks, this is the first match of the Quidditch tournament! So, without further ado, allow me to welcome the Gryffindor and the Slytherin!" Students cheered at this, clapping their hands uproariously. "Now, we all heard the rumors, and it appears they're true - it seems that Gryffindor has its own special player this year. Yes, my fellow classmates, it's DANIELLLL POOOOOOTTER!" The cheering grew louder once Daniel mounted his Nimbus 2000 and flew sky-high for everyone to see. "Gotta admit though, it's quite a surprise to see him on the team in his first year. Shocked me quite a bit. It seems that Potter is following in his brothers footsteps, must be in the blood, people. Although, Daniel is taking the position of seeker, and not chaser. The real question is, is he any good? Considering how well Harry Potter rides a broom, we might be looking at the same results with this brother of his. And, we all know how crazy Harry Potter flies on the broom!"

The two captains gathered in the middle of the pitch, Wood and Flint shook hands. Madam Hooch detailed the rules. The whistle from Hooch signified the beginning of the game, and every player in the field clambered aboard their brooms and flew into the air.

"And, they're off! Warrington, not wasting any time, snatches the Quaffle! He passes it to Flint, and the Slytherin chasers are off to Wood! Good player that Wood is, last year only reserve - Flint is making is way over to Wood, trying to score, but stopped by an excellent block from Wood! Angelina Johnson has the Quaffle, and she passes it to Spinnet... Back to Johnson, once again... Oh, and she throws the Quaffle high above! What is she thinking? Chasers Warrington and Pucey fly to it - I knew that was a bad idea - but wait a minute, people! Sheila Jonnet is making a mad dash to the Quaffle! She's got it, evading two chasers all the way! That's some flying, too! Nice dodge on the Bludger, and another skillful dodge from the second speeding Bludger by Jonnet! Out-flying the three chasers, spinning, evading, diving her broom! She's so slippery, it's like her body is covered with slick oil and now, she's rushing to the goal posts! Nothing can stop Jonnet now! Yeah, you bloody show those Slytherins, girl!" McGonagall was too caught up in Sheila's performance to reprimand Jordan for his language or bias. "She's getting closer! And, she takes her shot, wait a minute, it's a fake-out! Keeper Bletcher fell for it! He fell for it! And... and GRYFFINDOR SCORES FIRST, THANKS TO SHEILA JONNET! A great fake-out by Jonnet!"

The cheers from the Gryffindor, aided by Callista and Regine's squeals, sounded through the cold air. Daphne decided to remain neutral, choosing not to support the Gryffindor, though a slight smile was on her face. The howls and moans from Slytherin were clearly drowned out by all the cheers. Harry's binoculars locked onto Sheila, who was grinning at the crowd. The girl must have been training pretty hard over the summer.

"Sheila, I love you so much! Why won't you go out with me?"

"Jordan!"

"You're so hot, so pretty, and so sexy-"

"JORDAN!"

"But it's true, professor! Just look at her!"

"I'm warning you, Jordan!"

"Fine, fine. Back to Slytherin again. They're making their way to the goal posts..."

The game started to get more intense in the last forty-five minutes. The Gryffindor chasers were getting slaughtered out there by the Slytherin. Harry had to restrain himself from hexing both Beaters on the spot. He snarled crossly when Sheila got hit by a Bludger from behind. He wasn't the only one who reacted to it. He had to hold down three girls to keep them from whipping their wands out and cursing the life out of those poor guys. The Slytherin, on a last resort, turned to cheating when the Gryffindor took an outrageous lead. It was 310 to 250, a sixty-point lead.

Relocating his omniculars to find his brother, Harry cocked an eyebrow. His sharp eyes weren't fooling him, his brother's broom was acting weird. It was lurching, for no apparent reason. On top of that, the broom was carrying Daniel higher and higher. If he fell from his broom at that height, there was a strong possibility that he would die. Harry lowered his binoculars. Strange… someone must have used a spell to curse Daniel's broom. Harry delved into his brain for such a spell. The _hurling hex._ Someone wanted to kill his brother. For that to happen, the person must have casted a wordless, wandless spell or sabotage the broom before the game. But the latter part made no sense, since the broom had acted fine for the last fifty-five minutes.

Clearing his mind, Harry shut his eyes and tuned out the deafening roar of the crowds. The only thing he could do was to trace the magic back to its owner. He breathed calmly and routinely. Yes, there was magic on the broom, and someone had cast it. The magic seemed familiar. Harry concentrated harder, snapping his eyes open to find that the culprit was none other than Quirrell. Harry immediately raised his omniculars and zoomed in on the staff stands. Sure enough, Quirrell's gaze never left Daniel, and his mouth quietly muttered the spell.

But why Quirrell? It shocked Harry to the core.

He had believed Quirrell to be a pathetic failure, both as a professor and a man. It was a slap across Harry's face to learn that all this time, it had been a coward's act to force other's to lower their guard. What a Slytherin. Should he do something? He caught Snape doing something similar to Quirrell. Harry deduced that the greasy Bastard knew what was going on and was choosing not to take any immediate action other than to counter the spell. At least, that was what Harry suspected. There was no other reason for the potions master to be acting in the same manner as Quirrell.

But what was so special about Quirrell that kept Snape from making any commotion? Harry grumbled annoyingly, wishing that Merlin had taught him mind magic. He rearranged his omniculars to look once more at his brother. Daniel was no longer seated on his broom, but was now holding both hands above his head, strongly gripping his broom. Harry lowered his binoculars, quirking his lips in amusement. The kid sure had some luck. Most first years would have simply fallen, not his brother. The crowd was now watching, horrified, and the Weasley twins attempted to get Daniel to land on one of their brooms. Perhaps Harry should just stay put and not lend his brother his aid.

"Merlin, do you guys see that? There's a fire in the professors' stands! How did that happen?" Harry promptly whirled his head to the staff's stands at Regine's comment.

He quickly raised his omniculars to search for the source. Under Snape's feet, Harry caught a glimpse of Granger in a crouching position. So they thought Snape was responsible for this. Well, they were dead wrong about that. As a result, Harry wouldn't have to do anything to help the matters. It's their funerals. Harry shifted his gaze back to his brother as Daniel sped to the ground. Harry saw him clap his mouth, looking entirely sick after his fall. Harry chuckled slightly. He got the Snitch, alright. Daniel coughed it out and held the Snitch in the air, screeching excitedly as he did so. Removing his eyes from his binoculars, Harry shook his head, feeling overwhelmed. The match terminated in complete confusion.

* * *

><p><strong>25 December 1985.<strong>

A small boy of no more than eight woke in the early morning. He draped himself in an old blanket, clutching it tightly around his body. Today was Christmas, and yet he felt a void of emotion inside him, no happiness, exhilaration, or ecstasy. He coughed from a sickness that was getting the best of his small body. He didn't expect any gifts today, so he simply remained in bed. It wasn't like anyone cared about him, after all. His ears perked up at the sound of laughter. Removing himself from his bed, he walked to the window, fragile body still enveloped in the blanket. He shivered at the cold tiles as his small feet connected with the ground. Tiny drops of falling snow were visible out the window, but nothing more. Scowling weakly at the height of window, the boy cursed his small height.

He feebly dragged the nearest stool over to his window. Climbing warily, he shakily stood atop it and gazed outside. He coughed violently once more, eyes heavy. But he refused to allow his sickness and sleepiness to stop him from watching the happy people outside, laughing, playing childishly, and enjoying the day with high spirits. He hated the way they enjoyed each other's companionship. They playfully tossed snowballs at each other as the boy growled to himself. Locking his eyes onto a married couple, he watched a man with messy black hair chase after a red-headed woman, his little brother in her arms. They laughed, smiling happily.

Unconsciously wiping tears from his eyes, the boy carefully climbed down from his perch. Like an old man, he slowly approached his bed, bringing the old blanket with him. He clambered up and slumped his body into the mattress. The boy struggled to ignore the sound of laughter coming from downstairs and he tried to force himself to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>18 December 1991.<strong>

"Nice for all of yeh to drop by, I appreciate that," Hagrid chirped, passing out his notorious rock cakes. The teens smiled nervously and declined the pastries politely. "Can get awful lonely here sometimes. 'Course there's Fang, but he's not much company."

"Of course, Hagrid. We missed you, after all," Regine replied enthusiastically, playing with Fang all the while. The dog was all too happy to see her, his tail wiggling excitedly in joy.

"That's true. As much as I detest expressing my emotions openly, I do miss you and your... animals, Hagrid," Daphne carefully phrased, smiling up a little at the big guy. She sipped from her tea and posed with her ankles crossed, the poster child of a true pureblood.

"See? Even Daphne misses you, Hagrid!" Sheila proclaimed from the floor, where she lounged with Regine and Fang.

"We're sorry we didn't come sooner, Hagrid. A lot has happened these past few months." Callista smiled gently.

"Ah, shucks. Yer makin' me blush now." The gatekeeper did blush.

Harry observed Hagrid. "So, do you like our gift? It was supposed to be for Christmas, but uh... we decided it was more proper as an apology for not visiting you often."

"Do I!" Hagrid boomed happily, admiring his new coat for the millionth time. Finding a coat with that many pockets, coupled with the fine texture of the fabric, was a trip that had cost the children many galleons. "Yeh didn't have to git me anythin'. This giant owes yeh a lot of thanks! I feel awful guilty now, havin' not got anything' for yeh kids. Sorry about that."

"Of course not, Hagrid. It was us who owed you the apology." A glance to his companions, Harry confirmed they were busy with each other to notice what he was about to ask. He leaned across Hagrid's pockmarked table, closer to the giant for a quieter conversation. "Say, Hagrid... out of curiosity, does my brother come here a lot?"

"Now that yeh mention it, he does, Harry. Visits me lots a times. Nice kid, I'll give ya that, much like yerself. Always with Ron and Hermione. But those kids keep meddlin' in things that don' concern 'em, accusing Snape of tryin' ter kill your brother, can yeh believe that?" Hagrid noted absently, chewing his rock cakes.

"Obviously..." Sneaking another glance at the girls, Harry was pleased to discover they were still occupied with something else, and he persisted, "What kinds of things?"

"Well, it's not my place ter say, but... it's always about the Forbidden Corridor, yeh know the one? They sure are persistent, if yeh ask me. That's top secret information Professor Dumbledore gave me, but they keep on askin' me about it. Busybodies, the lo' of 'em."

"I'm sure you'll do an excellent job protecting what the headmaster requested you protect, Hagrid," Harry said, a little too innocently. This went unnoticed, and Hagrid beamed at the compliment. "So, how did you meet my brother? Did he introduce himself to you? I'm just worried about him, Hagrid, you know how siblings are. The elder always looking out for the younger..."

"Tha's quite alrigh', Harry, I understan'. But yeh got it all wrong about that. We starte' our friendship when I gave Daniel some gift. A beautiful snowy owl. I think he named 'er Hedwig. He did defeat you-know-who so I'm expressin' me gratitude to him. Then, I sent him a letter, askin' him to visit me hut for a cup of tea and whatnot. I don' mean ter brin' harm to yer brother, honest. He's a great kid, an' I like 'im."

"Absolutely, Hagrid. I trust you with all my heart. You're my friend, and I'm positive no harm will come to my dear brother when you're with him." Harry smiled, patting Hagrid's large left arm in a friendly gesture. "Enough about my brother. I hope you enjoy the coat we brought for you. Wear it a lot, would you? That would make the girls happy."

"Don' yeh worry, Harry, I intend to. This coat of mine is old and worn, and I'd be happy ter wear that one fer the rest of my life," Hagrid said with determination, again gazing in veneration at his new coat.

In truth, Harry couldn't care less what happened to his brother. Let him die and rot, for all Harry cared. But all of these strange happenings ended in the same conclusion, the Forbidden Corridor. Harry knew it wasn't just some Death Eater wishing to kill his brother. It piqued his interest to know what was inside that room, particularly if it contained a large magical core. It was no coincidence that these occurrences began the same year Daniel began at Hogwarts. But this time, Harry knew that was all the information he would get from Hagrid. He felt a bit guilty for screwing with the big guy's mind, so he stopped digging for any more information, at least for now. If he continued any further, the girls would involve themselves. Above all, Harry wanted to avoid them from knowing.

* * *

><p>"You're really going to stay in Hogwarts, Harry?" Sheila blurted out.<p>

It was now afternoon and the group sauntered back toward the castle, having just left Hagrid's hut.

"For the last time, girls, yes, I'm going to stay in Hogwarts, just like the previous year. I'm fine here." Harry sighed.

He scrutinized his surroundings, his four usual companions surrounded him on all sides. Most of Hogwarts Grounds molded in snow, stealing away the green grass. It had been early morning when Regine opted to visit Hagrid, affirming that it had been far too long since she'd last talked with the big guy and she missed him dearly. It prompted for the other four to accompany her to Hagrid's.

"You could come with me to the Muggle world, Harry," Callista suggested. "I'm sure my parents won't mind... Well, mum would be fine with it, but dad is an entirely different matter."

"Or with me, Harry? My family won't mind you staying with us for a couple of weeks," Regine proposed, poking him on the side. "The twins might be a bit of trouble. My little brother Noah might not like it, but you'll fit in there."

"Or mine," Sheila chirped. "The mansion is kind of big for just three people to live in. It's awful lonely with just me and my parents. Well, there are the elves too, but they're always busy working."

"Look, I appreciate what you guys are trying to do here, but I'm staying in Hogwarts like always."

"Mother wants you at home for Christmas, Potter." Harry cocked an eyebrow at her tone. "Don't give me that look. She said if she must, stun you, tie you, and then drag you back home, she will. Just so you know, she wrote me a letter saying she wouldn't take no as an answer. She insists you come with me."

"Why don't you take the offer, Harry? You're close with Daphne's family," Callista piped in.

"Yeah, and Elizabeth is a stubborn woman. Just like someone else I know..." Daphne looked fiercely at Sheila for addressing her mother in such a casual way. "What? Your mum was the one who asked me to call her by her given name, so don't get angry at me for doing what she says."

Harry sighed, reluctantly rejecting her offer. "As much as I'd like to accept it, I have to stay. This year is different... There's something I have to do."

"And what might that be?" Regine enquired.

As on cue, the girls unconsciously leaned in, making Harry feel uncomfortable with the close proximity of their bodies.

"Look, it's just some business that I need to attend to during Christmas. Like I said, I'm staying at Hogwarts. No more coaxing me to get out of here, end of discussion. And that's final," Harry commanded grouchily, quickening his pace.

The four girls shared a look, noiselessly communicating amongst themselves. They were aware they had touched his nerve. Harry never celebrated Christmas with anyone. He stayed in Hogwarts every year, refusing their gracious offers to spend time with them and their families. It seemed that Christmas never fail to remind him of many painful memories from his childhood. And now, they would be forced to fight the awkwardness for the rest of the day. Bit by bit, a grin coiled upon Sheila's lips, making the other girls wary. But before they could advise her not to execute whatever plan she had in mind, she had already dashed to Harry. Bending down expertly whilst running, she scooped up a handful of snow and constructed it into a ball, tossing it straight at her friend. It hit Harry's back, halting him in his tracks.

The other three girls watched Sheila's display of boldness in horror. Although, such behavior was to be expected from Sheila.

Her grin fell in small increments, as it occurred to her that he might be angry. As she was on the brink of apologizing, full-frontal snowball assaulted her. She gasped at the sudden coldness rushing to her face and she wasn't the only one. Fluttering her eyes, she glanced sideways to see the other three girls' stunned expressions. They, too, had been hit by snowballs, each of them having landed at the same time. Looking upfront, they stared at a superior-looking Harry, his wand in his right hand and a snowball in his left.

Lightly tossing the snowball in his left hand, he pointed his wand at the flying orb. "_Geminio_." The single snowball duplicated itself into four, all aimed at the girls. They gasped again as they were each hit at the same time. This time, however, Sheila grinned evilly as she used her Quidditch skills to toss a perfectly aimed snowball right back at Harry. Harry sidestepped the flying ball and Sheila pouted. Amused, Harry pointed to her side. Bewildered, Sheila glanced to her left and gasped audibly as three more snowballs struck her. Callista presented her an innocent smile, Regine was looking a bit guilty, whereas Daphne's was with a smirk of contentment. She didn't even bother to hide it. Huffing, Sheila dug into the snow and routinely launched more snowballs at them.

A grin erupted from Harry's lips as he entered Sheila's assault. The shrieks of joy from the girls, followed by laughter, could be heard around the castle grounds. All five fourth years dove into the snowball fight, mischievously attacking each other from a distance. For once, Harry ignored them matter of immature childishness and simply took pleasure in his entertaining companions. For the first time in years, Harry laughed blissfully. His morose sadness didn't reside in him on that bright, sunny day. It was the first time he'd experienced a snowball fight the likes of which he'd observed among others playing around the Potter mansion every time Christmas rolled around.

* * *

><p><strong>24 December 1991.<strong>

King's Cross Station was packed, full of people awaiting their children's arrival. They itched in excitement, barely able to suppress their joy at the thought of spending Christmas with their children. As a final burst of smoke was released from the chimney of the Hogwarts train, it pulled to a stop. Children enthusiastically burst from the train, hustling toward their respective families.

Lily Potter's lips curled into a smile of their own accord and she engulfed Daniel in a loving embrace. Happiness was written all over his features. A mixture of guilt and pain stabbed Lily's heart, thinking of her eldest son. Never once had she greeted Harry when he came home. Tears began to materialize in her emerald eyes, and she desperately held them back. Liberating her youngest son from her loving embrace, he hustled to greet the others. Lily could hardly concentrate and she found herself drifting off as Daniel introduced her to his friends. She forced a smile when her son introduced her to a bushy-haired girl, not wishing to make a bad impression on her son's friends. Where was Harry? She averted her gaze to the bustling crowd, visibly searching for her other son.

Transferring her attention back to her family, she observed that they were fairly occupied with themselves, and she surreptitiously slipped away. Evading the crowds with her petite body, she walked in the direction of the train, peering on her toes from left to right, seeking Harry. Her eyes flickered to a group of four girls descending the train steps. Lily's mouth parted slightly, recalling these girls from Harry's pictures. Mustering up her courage, she strode over to them, observing them as she got closer. They were chatting together, giggling at something, or in the blonde's case, smirking. A sense of disbelief dwelled inside Lily at the thought of four girls, especially a Slytherin, befriending others outside their own house. One thing was for certain, she couldn't put aside of how pretty and suitable each girl was to their own house, in their own way.

She inspected them rather scrupulously. Her eyes settled on the blonde.

She was like her mother, extremely beautiful, bearing a certain grace, and possessing deep, icy light green eyes. The lustrous straight blonde hair cascading down with stylish bangs matched her porcelain skin. The girl beside her had a length of attractive blue hair, her skin the color of ivory to compliment her gorgeous blue eyes, aided by a touch of azure. Those eyes seemed capable of enthralling people when they darted straight at you, mesmerizing you. She had a constant aura of gentles exuded out of her. Standing next to her was a girl whose red hair was disparate to the Weasley's, or Lily's own. It was more in scarlet color.

To Lily's credit, the girl's hair was much darker, thicker, and above all more luscious than any of the girls in front of her. The girl's long hair was appealingly smooth with a bit of curls, and her golden eyes dazzled with such rare colors. Her skin was unblemished, comparable to the Greengrass girl's. The last girl was perky-looking. Her raven hair was boyishly spiky, pointing in all different directions, yet somehow maintaining a sophisticated manner. She was definitely tomboyish, but there was no qualm in the eyes of males that the perky girl was a jewel worthy of a good chase, what with that athletic figure of hers. The girl's skin was lightly tanned, and her enticing red orb eyes shone enthusiastically.

The girls were too caught up in their own conversation to detect her eavesdropping them from a close range.

"I hope Harry likes my gift," Sheila chirped, smoothing out her costly robe.

"Let me guess, it's some sort of Quidditch equipment," Daphne drawled teasingly.

The energetic girl glared at the blond, her cheeks tinged red. "At least he likes it!" In response to it, Daphne smirked. This infuriated the black-haired girl even more and red flames spread throughout her entire face. Daphne just loved pushing Sheila's buttons.

"Daphne, will you please stop teasing Sheila? At the very least, she put forth an effort and Harry enjoyed her gift as much as ours, so leave Sheila alone," chastising her friend softly, Callista mended the blue scarf around her neck. Sheila poked her tongue out, grinning jubilantly. Daphne grumbled.

"You guys didn't get him anything expensive, did you? He's uncomfortable with gifts that cost too many galleons, not to mention he doesn't have enough galleons to buy us those kinds of gifts. But I did... I hope he won't be mad at me."

Smiling to some extent, Daphne hugged Regine lightly. "No need to fret about it, Regine. You're not the only one, the rest of us did too. He'll just have to deal with it. After all, my parents bought him with even more of a luxurious gift than we did. It makes me wonder if they love him more than me and my sister." She rolled her eyes at this last statement, recollecting one of the letters her mother had sent her.

"He'll be so surprised tomorrow. The look on his face will be priceless! Oh, I can't wait!" Sheila squealed. The three girls grinned knowingly for the events they anticipated tomorrow morning.

Lily disregarded the culpability of her never having gotten a gift for Harry, not even once. She drew closer to the teenage girls. "Um…Excuse me?"

"Yes?" Sheila excitedly greeted the new stranger, though her grin died down once she recognized the person.

Lily marveled at what had just transpired. She detected the same emotions radiating from the other girls as well, particularly the Greengrass's eldest daughter. What had she done to them to make their eyes blaze with pure hatred and revulsion? She concealed the quiver in her spine as warmth immediately fled from them, the temperature sinking to ice. Lily was beginning to think that approaching them had been a terrible idea.

"What do you want?" Regine snarled crossly.

"What my friend means is, could we help you with something, Mrs. Potter?" Lily was conscious that the girl's smile was plainly forced.

"You know me?" Lily asked lamely.

Sheila snorted, spitting her words out, "Oh, please. Who doesn't know the mother of the great Boy Who Lived? Everyone in the Wizarding world knows her! Every woman wants to be her! Let's all salute and bow down to every girl's idol, Lily fucki-"

"Sheila!" Callista shot her friend looks of reproach. She shifted her gaze from her huffing friend back to the woman in front of them. "I'm sorry for my friend's... boorishness, Mrs. Potter. She's not usually like this. Please forgive her."

While surprised at the callous treatment she was getting, Lily hid it. "It's fine." At the back of her mind, she rummaged her memory, trying to place the exact moment if she had offended any of them.

"Yes, well, what can we do for you? We have to meet our family sooner or later, we don't have time to dawdle here all day," Daphne spoke mildly, discounting Callista's glare.

Lily startled at the scorn in the girl's tone. "Yes, um... I was wondering if any of you have seen my eldest son. Harry?"

It was quickly evident that that had been the wrong thing to say. Each girl scarcely contained their anger, noticeably trembling and clenching their fists as their jaws hardened furiously. The Ravenclaw girl saved Lily from the three girls who were dying to curse her right on the spot. Her eyes narrowed coldly.

"Mrs. Potter," she began, inhaling a huge amount of air to systemize her distress emotions. "I'm not familiar with being a mother such as yourself. You can see that I'm underage. But, I am quite convinced that if I did have children, I would know where they were, how they were doing, how sad or happy they were, and most essentially, I would understand them, interior and exterior, without missing even the tiniest speckle in their life. I'm perplexed by this question you've asked us, when clearly you, yourself, must know where your son is, yes? You are his mother, are-you-not?" She emphasized the last three words through her gritted teeth, her knuckles white and her body was quaking with fury.

Blanched, Lily's eyes grew wide, her tongue too dry to respond to the verbal slap the girl had just handed her. "If you'd bother to jog your memory back, you would find that he's remained at Hogwarts, just as he has the past three years. Surely you're aware of this, right? Now, if you'll excuse us, our families are waiting. Have a _pleasant_ day," Regine intercepted briskly, steering an irate Callista away from Lily and guiding her other two friends in the same direction. Without a single glance, they abandoned Lily there, with her mouth hanging open and her mind replaying their words again and again.

* * *

><p><strong>24 December 1980.<strong>

"Harry? Harry, where have you gone off to?" a voice cried out.

Twenty year old Lily was hunting for her son everywhere in the mansion. Anxiety was rising inside of her as she couldn't make out the small three year old boy anywhere. For him to be missing during a time of war spiked Lily's worry. To add to her fear, night was about to fall. Honestly, ever since that boy had begun to walk on his tiny little feet, he'd been vanishing from her sight more than one occasion. He was sneaky for his own good. Relief swept over her when she spotted a tuft of black hair through a window at the rear of the house, directly in front of the garden. Her son was attempting to build some sort of figure in the snow. Wasting no time, Lily rushed to the door. She wrapped a coat tightly around her body, slipped her feet into high boots, and sauntered to her son.

"Harry, what are you doing outside? What did I say about telling me before you go somewhere? What do you have to say for yourself, young man?" Lily's hands were on her hips in an attempt to appear mad, however, her face softened at the bright smile on her boy's baby face. Nobody could resist Harry's smile, it never failed to put people at ease. Such a thing made Lily wonder to herself if it was a blessing, or a curse. "What are you doing, baby?"

"Making snowman! Mommy told Harry Muggles build for fun, so Harry wants to try!" He smiled cheekily and resumed his fun.

Lily studied at what her son claimed was his snowman, giggling quietly at what looked like a snow version of a goblin. No way would Lily be capable of doing such thing without magic. She shook her head in amazement. She and James frequently thought their son may be some sort of genius. It was simply extraordinary for a three year old boy to pronounce his words accurately and perform the tasks usually left to adults. Nevertheless, he was still a child and fun was what attracted him, as opposed to learning from his experiences.

Fluttering her eyes in mild incredulity, she laughed so loudly she swore people at Hogwarts could hear. Harry was creating a perfect imitation of James's round glasses around the eyes of his snowman. Harry pouted at her, scowling cutely. He didn't like it when people laughed at him for no apparent reason. Choking the laughter aside, she cradled him in her arms and smiled down at him. Harry's scowl dissolved at his mommy's smile and he grinned, looking back at his snowman. She transferred her gaze to the snowy figure as well.

Twirling her head back to her baby, she kissed his cheek lovingly and embraced him securely. "Let's go inside, baby. I'll make your favorite, a cup of delicious hot chocolate."

"Yay! Chocolate! Harry gets to drink one!"

"Yes, but not too much. Too much will be bad for you." He pouted, his bottom lip shoved forward and quivered, his small arms crossed.

Lily grinned, pinching one of his soft cheeks tenderly. "Alright, alright… But, just this once."

Harry grinned and she rolled her eyes affably. Out of the blue, a pair of strong arms emerged, snaking around her waist. Lily jumped.

"What about me?" the man whispered huskily in her right ear, nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

"James! Don't creep up on us like that!" Discarding the shudder she felt from his affection, she reprimanded him for scaring the life out of her. The man grinned in response, causing her to blush madly and bury her face in Harry's hair to hide the color.

"Daddy!" Harry shouted enthusiastically, squirming in excitement in his mother's arms.

James reverted his grin to his son, detaching himself from Lily to focus on him.

"Harry!" he greeted in the same tone his son had. Harry giggled. "How's my son today? Did you have fun, Harry?"

"Yes, Harry did! Harry makes snowman! Look daddy, there!" He giddily pointed his small finger at his snowman, proud of his handiwork.

James shuffled to his son's snowman, squinting his eyes and rubbing his chin. "It looks more like a goblin to me. Are you sure this is your snowman, Harry? Isn't a snowman supposed to be three snowballs, two sticks, bunch of pebbles, a hat, a scarf and a carrot? Isn't that what you told me, Lily? And Merlin... Are those my glasses?" James asked in shock.

Lily burst in laughter, unable to restrain herself. Diverting his astonishment to his son, James joined in his wife's laughter. Harry gazed from his daddy to his mommy, perplexed. What was it about adults laughing at him?

"It's not funny! Don't laugh at Harry!" he shrieked, throwing his tiny arms in the air indignantly. He folded his arms over his tiny chest and huffed angrily.

"I'm sorry, baby. It's just so funny, that's all." Cackling all the while, Lily wiped the tears from her eyes.

James grinned. "Daddy sorry, too, Harry. Like mommy said, it is funny."

Lily smiled fondly at her son, who refused to respond. "Alright, to make up for it, mommy will make that hot chocolate she promised. How's that?"

"Yay! Chocolate!" Like a flip of a switch, Harry rooted for it, accompanied by a laughing James.

Shaking her head with a smile, Lily carried her son back to the house, James at her side. Both males chanting for chocolate as the Potter family entered the mansion. They didn't notice the first that a single snowflake glided its way to fall atop the snowman, followed by a shower of more. Crystal snowflakes poured from the heavens to announce the arrival of Christmas.

* * *

><p><strong>25 December 1991.<strong>

Harry roused from the dream slowly, staring blankly at the ceiling.

He had fallen asleep in the Ravenclaw common room last night, sprawled on the sofa near the fireplace, a blanket draped around his body. Not many people remained in Hogwarts, most people opting to return to their homes for the holidays. In fact, Harry was the only Ravenclaw to stay in Hogwarts. A fact he didn't mind as he was far too used to being alone that at times he hardly even noticed what might be called a lonely situation. Turning his body sideways, he gazed at the crackling fire warming the common room.

Remembering it was morning, Harry rose to his feet. Waving his hand, he summoned his bathrobe and threw it around his body. He sighed wearily. He should have accepted Daphne's offer to accompany her to her mansion and spend time with the Greengrass', but he really hadn't wanted to get in the way of their family time. He was becoming a burden to them, always commanding their money and attention, indirectly, of course. He walked lazily to the boys' dormitory, heading straight for the bathroom, intent to shower in fresh, hot water.

After twenty minutes spent refreshing himself and putting on some elegant clothes, he moved to his gifts, surprised to find only one - a stark contrast to the piles of gifts he had acquired in previous years. Harry had believed he was used to not receiving gifts, but found that he felt hollow to know that the girls hadn't gotten him anything. Persistently ignoring the emptiness inside him, he snatched the package from the ground. Sitting on his bed, the package rest in his lap. He wondered why the package was so small. He was suspicious of this, examining it thoroughly. Not sensing even the slightest danger, he unfastened the small box and discovered a single piece of parchment inside.

Curiously, he lifted it and read the words:

_As you finish reading this line, a Portkey will be activated._

Harry's eyes grew wide with alarm as he tried to release the parchment, or burn it wandlessly. Before he had the time to react, he was sucked into a whirling vortex. He landed roughly in an improper heap, somewhere in an opulence room. Massaging his sore butt incessantly, he studied his location. The sound of giggles behind him immediately raised his guard. Instantly rising to his feet, he spun around in a defensive stance, ready to beat the living crap out of his kidnapper. Instead, he found his jaw dropping open slightly when he stumbled across familiar faces.

"What did I tell you? He's horrible at magical travel." Daphne was smirking.

"What are you girls doing here?" Harry whispered breathlessly.

"Oh my, did we shock the mighty Harry Potter?" Regine teased. "Behold, the mighty Harry Potter, crumbling at our feet!"

Sheila laughed, launching herself at Harry and embracing him. "Happy Christmas, Harry!"

She was soon mimicked by the other girls, all but Daphne, who stood rigidly from where she was. She offered only a tender smile to her friend.

"What are you all doing here? More importantly, what the hell is going on? Why am I not at Hogwarts?" Harry loosened himself from their hugs.

Daphne spoke for all of them. "As much as we respect your decision to stay at Hogwarts, and admire your sacrifice to allow us to spend quality time with our families, we disagree with it. Because of this, we came to an agreement. We each refused to allow you to spend Christmas alone, so..."

"So, we planned to spend Christmas together at Daphne's place!" Sheila finished excitedly for Daphne. "All of us have been waiting here for you to drop by."

"Us?" Harry's head was spinning dizzily.

"Yes, us four, plus our families. My parents, too," Callista pointed out to Harry.

"B-but I should stay at Hogwarts! I don't have permission from Flitwick to go home!"

"Have you ever wondered to yourself why Professor Flitwick never approached you this year, Harry? He usually wants to know the reason why you won't go home during Christmas. But this year, he didn't ask, did he?" Sheila cracked a mischievous grin. "Someone must have slipped your name to Professor Flitwick."

"A-aren't we supposed to write our names down in our own writing?"

"That charm you used to alter a person's writing style to match someone else's does continue to prove its usefulness, Harry," Callista filled in with a matching grin.

"B-but h-h-how did you do it without confronting him? You have to give the parchment to your head of house yourself, not by giving it to other people. That's against the rules!"

"Funny you should mention that, Harry. You never know when a nice cup of Polyjuice might come in handy," Regine offered innocently, flashing Harry a similar grin.

"What? B-but brewing Polyjuice takes months. There's no way anyone could do it in such short time!"

Daphne's smirk turned to a sly grin. "Not if your mother supplies you with the potion and assists you with your plans. Did you really think a group of fourth years such as ourselves could produce a Portkey to transport you here, all by ourselves?" Their eyes glinted in hilarity.

Harry had to admit that it was a devious plan. They had managed to do all that behind his back? Thankfully, he never underestimated the girls. If he did, there would be hell to pay. "Bloody hell, that was brilliant! You managed to do all that without me suspecting anything? In just three days, too! Wow... I - what - this is - you girls... I can't believe you girls have made me speechless... This must be a bad dream... Yes, Potter... A very bad dream..." The girls erupted in laughter, clearly taking pleasure in his reaction. It wasn't everyday they shocked Harry Potter to death. This was the first time, and they relished every moment of it.

"Alright, girls, leave the poor boy alone. That's enough surprises for one day," a soft voice butted in. Harry looked up to come across a smiling Elizabeth by the door. "This also means you'll be living here for two weeks in the manor, before returning to Hogwarts, Harry."

"What about my clothes? I don't have anything to wear."

"Oh, honestly, Harry. Is it really that bad to spend time with us? So bad that you're forced to make such ridiculous excuses?"

"N-no! I just don't want to be in the way..." He smiled nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"Nobody said you would be. Now, come downstairs, everyone is waiting for the five of you," Elizabeth said to the teenagers. "As for your clothes, Harry, now don't worry, William and I took the liberty of buying you new clothes-" Harry was about to object, but one stern look from her, and he shut himself up. "Yes, I know how uncomfortable you are with it, but just think of them as gifts from William and I, alright, Harry?"

"I - um..." Calming the raging storm of his emotions, Harry seized a deep breath before smiling sincerely at her. "...Thank you."

This elicited a large smile from her as she welcomed him, hauling him into her warm embrace. As she let him go, she commanded them all one final time before fading from the room and heading downstairs. Both of Harry's hands were tugged by Sheila and Regine as both girls gleeful lead him away, keener than ever to tear open their presents. Callista good-naturedly placed her hand on the small of his back to lend her support, smiling gently at him. Daphne just lay a hand on his shoulder, squeezing kindly as she smiled softly. Harry was astounded by all of this, but nevertheless, a large smile wiped across his face.

* * *

><p>Lily moved a stray strand of her daughter's raven hair away as Rosaline slept peacefully, a smile upon her face. A wolf doll was enveloped in Rosaline's arms. From downstairs, there came a bustle of laughter and chatter. Today was Christmas, and as per usual, the Potter mansion was filled with friends, acquaintances, distant relatives, so on and so forth. Lily had constructed many reasons to withdraw herself from the party, the best of all was the need to take care of her daughter. Though she had left a bit too abruptly, and far too early in the evening. Since Rosaline was about to collapse from exhaustion, yawning constantly, Lily had to prepare her for bed.<p>

Her eyes examined her daughter's tiny form, the thickness of the blanket enfolding her body protecting her from the cold chill of winter. Her daughter momentarily turned to a delusion of five year old Harry. Questions popped into her mind. When Harry was five, did he freeze? How had he coped with the cold? Did his body constantly shiver in the frosty snow? Most importantly, how had he handled the loneliness of celebrating Christmas alone? She held in the sob that threatened to escape from her throat, tears blurring her eyes.

She stood to exit her daughter's room, careful not to wake Rosaline with the noise of her sobs. Hearing cheers echo up the stairs, Lily realized she was no longer in the mood to celebrate Christmas. The thought of her eldest son had dampened her spirits. So she resigned herself to her room, quietly closing the door behind her. She strolled to a small trunk, silently sitting atop one of the desks. Unlocking it, she lifted the cover to see a singular photo laying inside it. She lifted this, now neglecting the trunk as she brought the picture to her chest, clutching it tightly. This was the only picture she had of Harry.

She had searched the mansion from top to bottom, looking for anything that could remind her of Harry, but she had wind up empty-handed. She wished to explore Harry's room in search of memories, but had eventually chosen against it, seeing as she hadn't stepped foot in the room for many years. He might be angry to find that she had been touching his things and messing around his tidy room. Lily walked to the large balcony on the edge of her and James' room. The scene of nature from the balcony was magnificent, consisting of trees, mountains, and the ocean. In spite of the coldness outside, she ignored the chill. She sat down in one of the comfortable chairs set out on the balcony, collapsing deeply into the softness of the texture.

Her mind switched to the events yesterday, the day she had confronted the four girls that usually framed Harry in all his pictures. The words from the girl with the pretty azure eyes kept replaying in Lily's mind, the truth in her insensitive words. Even though what the girl spoke of wasn't directed at Lily, she could appreciate what the girl was implying. The words had felt as though Lily had been slapped by the girl's own hand and she couldn't blame them for their anger. They knew her role as a mother hadn't been performed flawlessly, as even she would admit she had neglected Harry. She was glad, though, pleased that there was someone out there who cared about her son so much.

A blanket placed around her body jolted her from her thoughts. She looked to her side, expecting to see her husband, but instead finding her son, looking inquisitively at her. "What are you doing out here, Mum? Without anything to cover your body from the cold? And…have you been crying?" Hastily, Lily wiped at her tears, smiling softly at her son.

At times, Daniel could act like James, but at other times, he could be so gentle, sweet, and caring. Lily could see her own self in him. It was like he had split himself into two people. His usual attitude was a bit pompous, constantly basking in his glory, while other times he was selfless, putting others before himself, noble, attentive, and caring for his loved ones. She disliked his pretentiousness more than anything, and she blamed James for it. James was more arrogant than Daniel was in his youth. Thankfully, James had wise up and she couldn't ask nothing more for the love of her life and for a man she would gladly spend the rest of her life with.

Nonetheless, after the Troll Incident, Lily became aware that her son was no longer as conceited as he used to be. It was like his eyes and mind had been opened to the reality of the world. She was also aware that he was putting a lot of thought into things these days. People believed that Daniel hadn't changed a bit, but they were all wrong. He was beginning to. His best friend Hermione was one of the reasons for his slow-paced changes, and the other was the Troll fiasco. Lily and James were still somewhat shaken from Daniel's encounter with the Troll, much less the way he had killed it. Deep down, they knew Daniel was as shaken from the experience as they were.

"I'm fine, sweetie, just revisiting some old memories," Lily made an excuse for herself.

Daniel seated himself in the chair beside her, adjusting his round glasses. "That must be some memory if it made you cry. Is it really that bad, Mum?"

"Daniel, don't worry about me. I'm fine… Why don't you just enjoy yourself?" she proposed.

Daniel chortled without much humor. "I'm not in the mood to celebrate Christmas this year, Mum… I have a lot on my mind…"

"What's wrong?" When her son didn't respond immediately, Lily became concerned. "Daniel, what's the matter, honey?"

The boy exhaled his breath noisily. He leaned his back against the chair, looking at the dark sky. "It's just... Well, a lot, actually... It's nothing important, but I've been thinking a lot about something Harry said to me."

"Harry said something to you?" Lily asked in shock. "W-what did he say?" She tried to restrain her hasty tone, but failed miserably.

Daniel pursed his lips, ruffling his already messy hair. "He said... He doesn't consider me his brother. The only family he really has is Rosy. You should've seen the look in his eyes, Mum... It was like they were burning in distaste. Distaste at me..." Lily's breath hitched, her eyes wide. Daniel furrowed his brows in aggravation. "I know I don't talk to him a lot, and sometimes I may have treated him like a stranger, but did he really have to go that far? Even if I try to talk to him, what am I supposed to say? It's awkward with him sometimes. I wonder if that's the reason he didn't come home for Christmas... Come to think of it, he's never come home to celebrate Christmas with us ever since he went to Hogwarts. Do you think I'm the reason he never come home?" Daniel nudged his head at Lily, wishing she would supply him with an answer.

"No! No, of course not, dear. He must have his own reasons, don't blame yourself for this." Lily wanted very much to tell her son it was her fault, and that Harry didn't want to be in the presence of his family, but she couldn't. She was compelled to silence herself.

"Hey, Mum..." Daniel broke the silence. "Did you know Harry is popular at Hogwarts?"

Her heart leapt at that and she promptly whirled her head to her youngest son. "Really? Tell me more about your brother?" She was eager to get to know him.

"Yeah, well, he's real popular at Hogwarts, and when I say he's popular, I mean he's _really_ popular. People are always talking about him. After I was at Hogwarts for a few weeks, people barely remembered I was the Boy Who Lived. I've never felt anything like it. There are always rumors about him, but most of them aren't that bad. Girls chase him everywhere, crazy about him. I even caught a group of girls following him without him noticing it." Daniel chuckled at the memory. "The professors adore him a lot. Every time we have a new lesson, the professors always bring him up, using him as an example. Especially Professor McGonagall. By the end of the lesson, she told us that Harry should be in Gryffindor, since he shows so many traits of a true Gryffindor. The look on her face, it was hilarious."

Mother and son shared a sincere chuckle at that. "Hermione told me and Ron that the professors are always comparing her to Harry and to some Ravenclaw girl, Callista her name if my memory serves right. Hermione would rant on and on for hours. She hates it how someone can best her at being smart. For the most part, though, he's really good at Quidditch. I saw him play against Hufflepuff. It was like watching a professional play against students. I have to say, Mum, he is an amazing person... Doing so many things by himself, and handling it so well..."

Lily smiled sadly as she lifted her gaze to the sky. By the sound of it, she had missed out in most of her son's life. How badly she wished to make up for what she had done to Harry and to be there for him now. But it was impossible to reach out to him as he had been taking care of himself all this time and no longer depended on her and James.


	6. Chapter 5, Season 1

**Chapter 5.**

**24 April 1992.**

"Come on, come on! You guys are so slow, hurry up, will you?" Regine yelled irately over her shoulders. "What's keeping you girls?"

It was one of those times that Regine demonstrated how bossy she could be. When she's determined and excited, no amount of force or army could shatter her willpower. They knew that quite well. That is the reason why they permitted her into hauling them to see one of Hagrid's new dangerous creatures. Her owl had arrived not long ago with a note from Hagrid, enlightening her of some creature he discovered and that she would be interested in it. Luck wasn't on their side when Hagrid also cited for them to tag along.

"Slow down, Regine… Hagrid's hut isn't going anywhere, I tell you." Harry cringed at the display of sheer power from Regine as she forcefully yanked his arm towards Hagrid's hut. He often wondered if all girls packed this much strength, or was it just his friends?

"What's so special about this one that's causing you to be this impatient? Can't you just tell us and be done with it?" Daphne grunted, already picturing some nasty creatures leaping in on her. She shuddered at recalling the events of last year, not ones she fancy to undergo again. Mercifully, Harry was there. "Can't we just go tomorrow? I find it uncomfortable at going this late."

"Regine… is this really worth it? You drag us out here right after we got out of the library, and Daphne is right. I agree with her, we'll get in trouble if someone caught us out here." Callista looked around in all directions as if imagining someone to swoop out from behind a tree or bushes.

"Yes, this is worth it," Regine countered steadfastly. "Hagrid mentioned in his note that he's expecting it to hatch this evening and Callista, we've done this like many times, so stop worrying too much."

"Regine is right, you two are such spoil sports!" Sheila stated bravely, a hint of apprehension in her tone. "This isn't like last year, right? That three headed dog scared the crap out of me."

"So much for Gryffindor bravery..." Daphne drawled. Sheila glared at her Slytherin friend in response.

"Ah, come on you guys. Fluffy isn't that bad, he's cute…"

"You're saying that because that- that thing actually likes you! It almost bit my head off! If it weren't for Harry, I wouldn't have a head left!" Sheila's body quivered, dashing to Harry and clutching his robes to seek for his protection. "I don't want to end up like headless Nick. It would be so weird if people start calling me the headless Sheila."

"Oh Sheila, don't be so dramatic. Fluffy was just playing with us. There was nothing for us to worry about Fluffy at that time…" All three girls shivered at the idea of 'playing' with a Cerberus. More like the huge dog was taunting them as if they were his food to chew on. "Now that you guys mention it, I kinda miss the big dog. I'll ask Hagrid about Fluffy later on!"

Harry stared at Regine's look of total bliss and the three girls' expression of terror. He heaved a weary sigh. "Look, perhaps we ought to not visit today and come back another time-"

"What! No!" Regine was immediately against his idea.

"Harry has a point here, Regine, it's already late…" Callista backed up, possibly saving their lives from whatever Hagrid had hidden in his hut. "I'm sorry, Regine, but we need to go back to the castle."

"I'm with Callista on this. We promise we'll go see Hagrid the first thing tomorrow morning, but for now, a beauty sleep would be adequate," Daphne reasoned. Nevertheless, deep inside, she was hoping the girl would disregard it the next day.

Not acquiring positive responds from the three, Regine moved to Sheila, masquerading pitiful looks. "Sheila?"

Sheila bit her bottom lip at the looks Regine was giving her. There was no way she could resist those round yellow-gold eyes. She glanced at her other three companions before returning her gaze to Regine. She continued this for several minutes. They were surprised her neck didn't fracture from looking back to fro at such a fast rate. Resigning a defeated sigh, she nodded her head dismally, halfway through planning to leave a will behind for her parents.

"What? Jonnet, you cannot be serious! I am not going, you can forget it!-" She ceased her rant at Regine's look. Her eyes twitched madly, and she too capitulated in the end. "Fine, but only for a short time. We see this creature which intrigues you so much and question Hagrid regarding that blasted Cerberus of his and we are leaving! That's it, no more delays and no chatting. Understand?"

Grinning, she nodded her head. "Crystal clear, ma' am!"

"Are you sure?" Callista asked fearfully, viewing a giddy Regine lugging a whimpering Sheila.

"No…" Daphne murmured in the exact fear as Callista. "Why do I feel like I just signed our lives away to one of Hagrid's beasts?"

Harry observed the girls, preferring not to interfere. Shoving his hands into his trouser's pockets, he smirked, definitely amused by their interactions. All four were exceptional witches in their own right. What they lacked in some areas of magic, they made up in another.

"Don't worry about it. You can all hide behind my back if you're so scared."

"You better, Potter. I'm entrusting our lives in your capable hands, so you better not slack off from your job."

"When am I not saving you?" He rolled his eyes. "If it is a job then why am I not getting paid?"

"Stow it, Potter!"

An arm hooked into one of his arms. He circled his head to his side and arched an eyebrow at the person. Callista felt the heat creeping up her cheeks. "It's for r-reassurance…" she spluttered a bit.

When Harry felt another arm hook into his, his head twisted to his other side. "Don't look at me like that. As Callista said, it's for reassurance so I'm simply following her lead. Don't get this wrong, Potter, just shut your lips tight and go after them," she hissed strictly, the blush, however, didn't correspond with her stern expression.

Rolling his eyes for the second time, Harry shook his head and continued striding down to Hagrid's hut with two girls by his sides. As they gained closer to Hagrid's door, they saw Regine and Sheila. Both girls were pressing their ears to the door.

"What are you two up to now?" The both shushed her severely. Daphne scowled at being order to be quiet.

"They're going to hear us!" Sheila explained, whispering.

"Who are they? And, why are we whispering again?" Callista considerately remarked in a low voice.

"Hagrid and some first years." It was Regine who voiced it out. "They're discussing about the forbidden corridor."

Harry hardly suppressed his frown while the two girls' eyes broadened. Freeing their arms from Harry, the girls joined them, allowing their curiosity to rule them. Callista was brilliant enough to cast _silencio _around them. They beckoned Harry to do the same. Harry did whatever they wished him to do, not desiring for them to be aware of the researches he was doing lately. He managed to unmask that Quirrell is some loyal Death Eater, and was commissioned by Voldemort to steal whatever artifact lies inside the forbidden corridor. He was flabbergasted that Snape was putting an effort in stalling Quirrell from reaching whatever it was that was hidden. Initially, Harry believed the man to be a loyal Death Eater.

What generated Harry to feel unease, however, were the two magical cores within Quirrell's body. One was of an average wizard, but the other was a powerful aura radiating from the back of his head. He had an immense urge to _incendio _his bizarre smelly turban to ashes but didn't, not wanting to cause a scene in front of other students. Noiselessly, he paid attention to the conversation inside Hagrid's hut. All five teenagers listened carefully, too stuck on the conversation to produce any comments. When they touched on the subject of Nicholas Flamel, a scowl worked its way to Harry's face. In his head, he put the pieces together straight away. It was the philosopher stone.

That's why Harry sensed a large magical core flaring around the forbidden corridor. But why? Why would a renowned Alchemist scrap away his life's work for no purpose? That stone was the only thing that preserved the Flamels on the path of immortality. This has gone too far. Why were the brats persistent in protecting the thing? As soon as the Granger girl smoothly persuaded Hagrid into recounting who set up the traps, Harry opted to intervene. There was no denying how smart that girl was. She reminded him of Callista, a lot. He didn't fancy on letting anyone get involved in this, specifically the girls. Irritated, he shattered the silencing charm from Callista.

He knocked the door rather insensitively, jolting the girls and halting Hagrid from feeding them any more of the information. Harry adopted an innocent expression before the door burst open, revealing Hagrid's large form. The girls pulled themselves together, tidying up their appearances. Not the least bit perturbed or suspicious, Hagrid beamed and ushered them inside. They nearly stamped on Fang, who was sleeping peacefully on his own bed. All the while, the girls tossed a questioning look to their male companion. Harry discarded the looks, choosing to merely act innocent.

"What are they doing here, Hagrid?" The Weasley boy sounded hysterical. "They're going to report us! A snake too! The slag-"

Harry reacted faster than anyone, whisking out his wand. A powerful defensive shield was erected, enclosing the three first years. A variety of three spells clashed his shield before rebounding off to someplace else. Of course, it didn't prevent the assailants from firing a rapid of curses and hexes. Daphne, the only calm girl out of the four, was able to appease the girls. She was not insulted by petty words, deeming it a trivial matter. The first years were frightened at the scene played out in front of them. They didn't have any moment to react at all, and by the time they could comprehend the situation, they were already shrouded with a multitude of spells. The only thing they saw were the blur of color after color. Their attacker was unmistakably aiming to maim or seriously injure. There were huge holes everywhere in Hagrid's hut. Lucky for them, Harry saved their arses.

Harry cast _reparo_, patching up the damages the girls had done. Gesturing Daphne to guide them to the far corner of the hut, he looked apologetically at the groundskeeper. "Sorry about that, Hagrid. They are over protective of each other. You know, how angry they are when someone insults one of them."

"Not ter worry, Harry. It's my fault to tag these lots alon', I understan'. I'm furious meself." Hagrid shifted to the trio, livid. "An' Ron, if I ever fin' you insultin' Daphne again, I'll personally kick you ou'!"

Hagrid's proclamation was downright unexpected, and it swept them off their feet. As far as they thought, Hagrid was on their side, the Gryffindor side. Defending a Slytherin was definitely not in character for the groundskeeper. "What do you mean, Hagrid? She's a bloody Slytherin! They're all slimy and evil! My brother says they're all slu-"

His words were cut off when Sheila screamed angrily. She stepped in front of the group and pointed her wand precisely at the red-headed boy's head. Eyes widening, Harry swiftly slapped her hand, forcing it to point upwards. A blast of scarlet light unleashed from her wand and destroyed Hagrid's roof, in the form of a huge hole. This time, he had to stand in the middle of the trio and the girls. Sighing, he fixed the roof for the second time in five minutes.

Now, they were gobsmacked. A Gryffindor of their own attacking them? All for a Slytherin.

Daniel was the first to snap back, realizing the perilous situation they were in. "Ron, shut up! Do you want us to get hurt that badly?"

"But mate, she's a-"

"Have you forgotten what the prefects warned us about? About them! That warning applies to all of us, to the first years! This happens if we affront one of them!" Hermione scathingly hissed, still visibly shaken at what could have occurred to them. "We're fortunate Daniel's brother protected us and didn't participate! Just keep your mouth shut, Ronald!"

Scrutinizing each person, Harry had to control himself from grinning stupidly. The three girls were glaring furiously at the trio. Their eyes flashed in murdering intent, whereas the trio couldn't stop themselves from visibly shuddering. An awkward tension swarmed around the hut and silence reigned over them. He shared an amused glance with Daphne, who was studying her perfect nails. A part of him was itching to curse the Weasley boy, but he settled on the revenge for another time. He clapped his hands one time, seizing their attention and schooled his face into a cheerful one.

"Well, isn't this just wonderful. What a lovely introduction, don't you all think so?" Harry endeavored to imitate one of Dumbledore's looks.

Overlooking Harry, Sheila snarled crossly, "If you insult Daphne one more time, I'll show you how good I am at transfiguring. I always wanted to bloody try transfiguring someone into an animal. Unfortunately, it's a NEWT level skill, so I might not get it right." The color on their faces drained at the thought of being trapped in some part-human and part-animal stage.

Unnoticed by all, Harry placed a calming charm over the girls. "Hagrid, you sent Regine a note just now, right? Well, let's see this new creature of yours."

Immediately, Regine's face brightened up. "Where is it, Hagrid? Come on, show it to us! Is it larger than the last time? Or is it a tiny little thing? Come on, stop beating around the bushes, will you? And, show it to us!"

Hagrid barked a thunderous laugh. "Now, now, calm down, Regine. It's abou' to hatch now. Hey, hey, stay still, would yer?"

The girl was persistently jumping up and down, pursuing Hagrid to where the kettle was. Underneath it, there was a black egg. An inquisitive Sheila towed them not far, assuming necessary precautions. Callista, still annoyed of their blatant disrespect, flicked her wand, casting _silencio_. When Hermione was about to speak, no sound emerged from her mouth. Trying again, she scowled frustratingly and whipped her wand to cancel the charm.

"Don't bother. I know well who you are. You're that girl, who spent all her time in the library, aren't you? No matter how many books you have read, that charm won't come off until I do it myself. I didn't just cast silencing charm, it's a ward of silence that I put around us. That silencing charm just triggered the ward to fully activate. Only to those I approve can speak. You can say this is my territory, for now." Aggravated, Hermione tried it again and again. No way was she going to be defeated by her. Not only did they interrupt when Hagrid almost spilled the beans, moreover they're stomping them as if they're no one. "Try as many times you wish, it's futile and pointless. Just silence yourself for once until I ultimately calm down."

"Impressive…" Harry complimented. He surveyed the Granger girl was on the verge of tears, struggling to disentangle herself from Callista's spell. "You constructed a ward without us knowing? Very impressive..."

"That's our Callista, never underestimate her...I, for one, rather have her wand point anywhere else, provided that I'm not her target." Daphne smirked in a friendly manner. Callista reddened at her friend's praise, it was rare for them to distribute such praise to anyone.

Harry crossed his arms, leaning against the door and monitored the people around him. Hagrid was hovering over some egg with Regine and Sheila crouched over the fire to get a closer look. Daphne and Callista were having a silent deep conversation. A grin threatened to rip his face once his gaze perched on the trio of first years. The Granger girl renounced her attempts long ago, just motionless still with a blank expression on her face. The Weasley boy was screaming yet no sound was heard. His brother was what intrigued him. Harry could tell when he wasn't looking, his little brother would sneak a glance at him. The brat had been acting strange ever since Christmas. Harry dismissed it to the back of his mind, considering it to be insignificant at the moment.

"Cme closer, cme closer, it's almost out!"

Hagrid situated the egg on the table. There were sounds of cracks on the hard shell. Something was stirring to get out of its shell. The girls approached nearer to the table, utter fascination carved on each of their faces. The trio, still silent, came closer as well, drawing a good distance from their attacker. On his toes, Harry strained his neck to look at it. The scraping sound carried on for a while. Then, a solid crack appeared, splitting the egg.

"That's a Norwegian Ridgeback..."

"Right yer are, Callista. It's-"

"A bloody dragon!" Sheila was awed.

"Isn't it illegal, Hagrid? How did you get one of these?" Daphne was staggered, eyes squinting at the baby dragon.

"Won it actually. The other night, havin' a drink down the village and foun' meself into a game of cards," Hagrid explained, beaming.

"It's so cute..." Regine cooed.

The trio watched in horror as the girl cradled the baby dragon. Hermione tried to advise her of the threat of a dragon, but furrowed her eyebrows in confusion when neither Hagrid nor her companions displayed any concern. Her mouth hanged opened in admiration as the dragon wriggled more comfortably in her arms. It's as if the dragon was treating her as its real mother. Who is this girl? That cannot be normal.

Regine grinned, petting the dragon gently and it purred. "Got a name for it, Hagrid?"

"I was thinkin' o' Norbert!" he chirped, extending his large hand to stroke the dragon. It snapped at his fingers, exhibiting it's dangerously pointed fangs.

"That's a great name!" Regine claimed. "Norbert, I like it!"

Harry and the other three girls exchanged glances. They shook their heads, smiling. Trust Regine to agree wholeheartedly at whatever monikers Hagrid cropped up with.

"What did you just do? Even my brother, Charlie, said taming dragons is impossible!" Ron clamped his mouth lock with both hands. The trio was stunned at this, but a look of warning from Callista caused them to reflect carefully of their next words

"Well, Regine has this ability that I'm envy o'," Hagrid said, plopping down on his bed.

He and the trio looked at the girl as she grabbed Sheila's hand. Sheila closed her eyes fearfully, but reopened them once she felt her hand on the dragon's head. Her grin quickly turned to yelp and she hastened to Harry for protection as it sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its mouth. All four chuckled at this and Sheila glared at them, still gripping Harry's robes fearfully.

"Ability? What kind, Hagrid?" Daniel took note of his brother's interaction with his friends.

"Yer know, able to understan' creatures. It's amazing she understan' em'. Wish it for meself. Not only that, any creatures like Regine. Don't care if it's dangerous or not an' in return she likes em' back. Brilliant girl, Regine."

"You mean, communicate with animals?" Hermione was engrossed in the conversation.

"Yeah, sort o'."

"Is that even possible?" Ron whispered harshly. "I mean, look at her! Dragons aren't supposed to be tame, they're dangerous even for a baby! The ministry has a hard time hushing them up. They have to keep doing spells on Muggles who spot them! Charlie got burns all over his body from the wild ones in Romania!"

"But, a baby dragon isn't a wild one," Daniel pointed out.

"No, but when it grows up, it will be. She's mental, that's what! All of them are!"

Hagrid flung him a hard look. "Now liste' Ron, I don't like how you insult them so don't try it again! I forgive you this time bu' it's my las' warnin', I tell yeh! If there is anythin' possible, it's them an' I trus' them a lot. Understan'?" Ron bobbed his head rapidly.

"Hagrid!" Regine called out. "I was wondering if you know where Fluffy is, I haven't see the big dog for a while!"

The girls paled dramatically and Harry pretended to be oblivious. He knew the exactly where the Cerberus was and he did not want anyone else finding out. The trio inhaled a sharp breath, marveling how she knew about that huge beast. Hagrid was about to answer, though after a look from Harry, he was forced to hush himself.

He smirked. "Well, well, what do we have here? Looks like, we have a spy in our midst. Why don't you come out and say hi properly, Draco Malfoy?" There was a rustling sound outside the hut, and it followed by a squeak.

Hagrid leapt to his feet and bolted to the door.

"Oh no…" Ron moaned, glaring accusingly at Daphne. "Why don't you stop him! It must be her that brought Malfoy out here in the first-"

A whoosh of wind rushed past him. Behind him, there was small sound of explosion where the spell had landed. Everyone in the hut was dead silence. Looking over his shoulder, Ron swallowed audibly. Harry hurled whatever horrible spell he had in mind, missing Ron's face by inches. He did it without even looking at Ron as his eyes were still attached on the door.

"Darn… I missed… I was so sure I aimed it right at his head…" Harry said, moving his attention to the boy. "Another word from you and the next time, I won't miss."

"W-w-what are you goin-g-g to do, Malfoy has seen u-us." Hermione's legs were all wobbly.

Hermione knew the situation was not funny. Whatever spell he cast was dangerous. He also did it wordlessly. Harry Potter was not someone you want to mess with. What her eyes grasped in just now, confirmed a lot of rumors she heard about him. When she first learned of the rumors, she scoffed. Her mind was evaluating how impossible it was and resented him for becoming most of the professors' favorite student. That's what kept her in denial regarding Harry Potter.

"I'll ask the twins if they can mail their brother, Charlie, to have Norbert," Sheila replied solemnly.

"Hmm…" Daphne hummed. "The Weasley who's studying dragons, right? My parents won't be much help to us. They'll be appalled instead and we'll get an earful from mother."

"As much as I want to care for the fella, it isn't safe for him to be here. Hagrid will get in trouble if someone learns he has a dragon in his possession. Norbert will have to go." Regine smiled sadly at the baby dragon that was sleeping in her arms.

"Blimey, no!" Hagrid protested as he entered his hut, scooping Norbert from Regine.

"Sorry Hagrid, but it's for the best, for you and for Norbert…" Callista smiled apologetically at the groundkeeper.

Hagrid's eyes brimmed with tears, threatening to fall. Harry faced away from them and transferred his awareness to the first years, advancing to them casually. He smirked as they quivered in fear at his sudden closeness. He leaved the coaxing part to the girls. Hagrid would consent to whatever the plan in the end.

"Now, I know you three want to help Hagrid as much as we do. Just leave the preparation to us, but you guys will be in charge on delivering the dragon to Charlie Weasley and then, we five won't be involved in this matter anymore, so you three are on your own after that. As for Malfoy…"

Harry closed his eyes, striving to sense where that little bastard was at this point in time. He had been doing this technique frequently over the past few months and after performing it regularly, it was unproblematic for him to execute it now. A smirk tugged the corner of his lips. Malfoy was heading straight to McGonagall's office. It almost felt like he was forced to go there.

"We'll be facing him shortly with… Professor McGonagall. Don't fret about him too much. He won't report without any proof backing him up. Until he finds some evidence to prove his claims, he'll not make his move, though he'll be watching you three closely. It's you three's job to act clueless unless… you want another demonstration of that spell I used a while ago…I won't mind doing it… Let's see what kind of effect it has if it actually hits one of you…" They trembled, shaking their head vehemently. "Good… as for you Weasley, I'm not the type to easily forgive someone who insults my companion. I heard what you said about Regine and I'm longing to curse the life out of you for what you said to Daphne. I hold a grudge, you see… so prepare yourself for whatever inevitable is coming for you. Maybe you'll learn in the future to keep your big mouth shut." He gulped at this and nearly soiled himself at the devilish smirk on Harry's face.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, nine people stumbled into McGonagall's office. The first years were sitting still, motionless as marble statue. Five fourth years were mildly composed, not entirely alarmed. If they were in their first year, they might have cowered and shrunk by the sight of McGonagall's glare. Likely, quaking in fear and raking their brain for some ideas to dodge out of the situation.<p>

McGonagall breathed in some deep air. "I have never imagined this many students in my office at this late hour. What in Merlin's beard are you all still up and not in your dormitory? Especially you five! You are all excellent in your respective studies and I'm shocked that you, Mr. Potter, would break the school rules-" Daniel hoisted his neck up. "Not you, Mr. Potter- the- the elder Potter! I'm truly disappointed with you five. You are supposed to be the role models for the younger students."

"Please, Professor McGonagall, can we explain?"

"Ms. Campbell!" McGonagall shook her head, undoubtedly upset. "You of all people, Ms. Campbell! I expect nothing less from you and in truth, all you five! Now, I'm reconsidering that opinion thoroughly. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"It is my fault actually…" Harry shamefully dropped his gaze to the floor.

The first years were rendered speechless by the immediate changes in his attitude. This isn't the Harry Potter they encountered a moment ago. He was a different person. He was cocky, composed and naturally cool.

"Mr. Potter?"

"The girls weren't part of this… To be quite honest, it's my fault. If you want to punish someone, punish me, Professor…" The girls dissented this.

McGonagall glowered, instructing for them to hush. "I believe an explanation would be pleasant, Mr. Potter."

"Yes, well, I realized how late we were when we left the library. We were researching something but um… I-I…" he hesitated, glancing nervously at Daniel. McGonagall didn't fail to notice this. "I don't think it will be wise to blame this on someone, Professor… just assign me the appropriate punishments and leave the girls alone…"

"Mr. Potter, allow me to be the judge of that," she insisted reassuringly at him. "Please, carry on…"

"We caught my brother, Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley walking towards the school ground. I persuaded the girls into pursuing my brother, even though they pleaded me not to, Professor. I was concerned for him and we did-"

"That's a lie!" Ron roared.

"Mr. Weasley! Be quiet!"

"B-but P-Professor…" A terrifying glare from her compelled him to take a seat.

"Please continue, Mr. Potter…" McGonagall softly urged.

"Yes…um… we did follow them, Professor, and they were on their way to Hagrid's hut. Not long after that, all five of us joined them inside. Hagrid tried his best to get us to bed, but the three of them were too stubborn and now, it brought us here. I'm sorry, Professor. I should have been more responsible and be aware of the rules. That's why I request any actions are to be considered as my fault and not the girls." The first year's jaws dropped at his ingenuous facade, it was so convincing.

"Yes, this is the kind of story I had in mind. For you to act irrationally without a reason is impracticable." McGonagall smiled warmly. The first years were simply stunned. So far no one had managed to get the stern transfiguration professor to smile. "It is not your fault, Mr. Potter. You're older fulfilling your duty as an older brother, nothing more."

"Professor?"

"There is nothing to be sorry for. You were merely looking out for your younger brother, like any older brother should. No, you absolutely did nothing wrong, Mr. Potter. In fact, I ought to award you ten points for this and another ten points for being honest. Yes, that would suffice."

"B-but?" Harry stuttered.

"No buts, Mr. Potter, I should've known all along that you are not one to break the rules without a cause. For that, forgive me for doubting you and I apologize to you four girls as well. The remarkable loyalty is not something I should oppose. Instead, do take twenty points for each of you for that display of devotion and house unity," McGonagall said. "You five may go now."

There was a gagged sound of disbelief from the first years.

"Oh, I almost forgot, Professor!" Sheila squealed all of a sudden.

"Ms. Jonnet?" Her eyes fluttered at the girl's sudden outburst.

"I know how you do it! I know how you do it!" she chanted, hopping up and down giddily. They all looked strangely at her, as if she had grown two heads. Ron mumbled something about crazy witch, which McGonagall glared at him for. "Remember in our first year, you made the desk into a pig. I know how you did it!"

McGonagall's eyes widened. She knew the girl was admirably talented in transfiguration, but if she figured it…

"Watch, watch this!" Sheila pointed her wand to her desk and changed it into pig. She grinned at her look and then, turned it back again. "See? See, I did it!"

"That- That-" McGonagall was speechless. That was sixth year advanced transfiguration! She shook her head, smiling. "That was marvelous, Ms. Jonnet. Wonderful, wonderful performance!"

"I was thinking of the opportunity to show it to you, Professor, but now I'm here, I thought of simply doing it."

"Yes, yes, tell me how did you do it?"

"Oh that's simple, they helped me with it. That's the reason why we were in the library just now. We lost track of time. Transfiguring an object into a living animation is quite hard though."

"You all have been doing research on this?"

"We have always been curious on how you did it, Professor. So…" Callista trailed.

"We tried to uncover the answers in the library," Daphne added briskly. "We practiced it once..."

"We hope you're not mad at us. Sheila had a sudden inspiration and said she worked it out a while ago. We know you're supposed to teach it to us in our sixth year but uh…we were just excited and uh…" Regine ended her line, fidgeting her fingers timidly.

"Mad? Absolutely not!" That jolted all of them. "Twenty points to each of you and thirty to Ms. Jonnet!"

That was the last straw as there was a sound of thud, hinting something large had fallen. It was Malfoy.

"Can we please go now professor?" Callista begged. "We have classes tomorrow and..."

"Yes, you five may go."

As the girls exited, Harry lingered. "Mr. Potter, is there something else you would like to add?"

"Yes, Professor, as a matter fact I do," He said. "I'm doing this out of concern, Professor. I'm really worried about them. When we were entering Hagrid's hut, we sort of eavesdropped on what they were saying. Yes, it is bad for one to pry on other's conversation, but this is terribly serious. I heard something was going on the forbidden corridor, and then something about Nicholas Flamel. They even got Hagrid to expose them the traps that were set. I suspect they've been going to Hagrid often for the sole purpose of gaining information. I'm telling you this, Professor, because it's for their own good. They are poking their noses in something that is dangerous and unfathomable to them. It would appear they didn't heed the headmaster's warning seriously, and they seem to think it's a game for glory. Their life is what is at stake here, don't you agree, Professor? I trust you to resolve this matter, that's all."

At each word spouting out of Harry's mouth, the feeling of dread began to shape inside the Transfiguration Professor. At the end, her face lost all every color. Seeing McGonagall momentarily preoccupied with her mind, he directed his head to the trio. He winked at their mixed expressions of panic and terror. Smirking evilly, he mouthed 'good luck'. He stepped out of the room, vanishing out of their sight. The girls were waiting for him up ahead and he jogged up to them.

"What took you so long?" Sheila pressed out of curiosity.

"Oh, you know, just a little bit of revenge."

"What do you mean-" Callista's words were overwhelmed by a loud furious scream. It looks like McGonagall had lost her temper.

"Ah, so the volcano has erupted at last. I was beginning to wonder if I gave her a heart attack with all the silence after I finished my little speech," Harry said. "You know what they say then, 'The strange abrupt silence implies a raging storm nearby'."

"Do you think we went overboard? I can't help to think we were too cruel and harsh to a bunch of first years," Regine voiced out worriedly.

"Not really...I'm not bothered by it," Daphne drawled. There was another yell from McGonagall, saying she deducted seventy points from each of the trio and detention. "I spoke too soon... perhaps, we might have exaggerated a bit too much..."

"Don't worry about it. They'll remember not to cross our path in the future." Harry brushed their concerns aside.

"By the way, your transfiguration was brilliant, Sheila..." Regine grinned.

Callista exhibited a grin of her own, eyes gleaming in mischief. "Yes, it was brilliant. I could have never come up with something so clever..."

"And, to think we did that transfiguration ages ago in our second year," Harry asserted.

"Eh! Stop it, you guys! You guys are making me blush now!" Sheila buried her red hot face in her hands. They shared a good laughter as she moaned out, "Why am I always the victim?"

"Who knew you girls had it in you, lying to McGonagall's face like that," Harry said. "Not bad acting at all."

"Blame Daphne for instilling her Slytherin-ish into each one of us." Callista offered a smile to her friend

Sheila reverted back to her normal color. "Yeah, she even dragged me into it. It must be some kind of Slytherin disease, infecting those few that are personally selected. I hope I don't turn into a copy of her... that would be weird...Ice Princess Sheila... Nope, totally weird!" Harry smirked at her words. Callista and Regine incapable of restraining themselves, succumbed to fits of giggles. Grinning, she playfully danced and shuffled her way to Harry, taking shelter. Daphne was trying to hit her senselessly. Daphne huffed, folding her arms.

Gradually, a smile swiped her lips. "No...We all influence each other..." They all smiled at that. They couldn't refute with her words.


	7. Chapter 6, Season 1

**Chapter 6.**

**24 may 1992.**

Harry Potter was lounging in the Ravenclaw common room. The girls were nowhere to be found. He grew weary of strolling aimlessly in the castle, searching for them and so, he elected to take a break in the common room. He used the sensing technique to try and hunt them down, but once he reached his destination of where they were, they ebbed away. He deduced it had side effects from exploiting it too much, or the more logical reason is that they were purposely avoiding him.

He gazed blandly at the blue stars on the ceiling, ignoring the nearby people. Now, sprawling around lazily on one of the sofas in the common room had become something of monotony. He discounted the usual blatant stares he received from girls and fumbled his brain for where his friends could be. His eyes fastened to Clearwater and Li as they descended down the stairs. He hopped to his feet and casually paced towards them. Both girls halted in their tracks, cheeks tainted slightly pink by his mere presence.

"W-what do you want, Potter!" In spite of hissing callously, her eyes betrayed her true emotions. It revealed her admiration for him.

"Don't worry, I won't bother you two." Harry smiled appealingly. "I just wanted to ask if any of you have seen Callista."

"U-m, she said she's going to the library with her girlfriends." Penelope's face was red all over.

"Thank you, you both have been very helpful...Well, I'm going now. Have a good day, both of you." He hid a grin at either of their faces visibly fell. "On second thought, how about the three of us spend nice quality time together, hmm? I know a place where we can be far away from prying eyes... What do you say?" There were gasps from the girls in the common room. Blushes deepening further, they shuttered their words out, ignorant to the girls that were glaring daggers at them. "But... as time is not on our side, I have to leave. Enjoy your day, ladies, I'll see you two around."

He hurled one last wink at them and he carried himself out of the common room, heading to the library straight away. Paying no attention to his surroundings, he nonchalantly sauntered towards the library. In the library, he spotted them instantaneously with all the color of their hair. Ducking his head, he crept up on them, hoping to not let them know of his presence. They were whispering about something, and he was certain they were concealing something from him.

"...cannot allow Harry to know what we are doing, he'll be furious..." was the last whisper from Callista.

Permitting his presence to be known, he procured a seat. "What are you doing?" The girls repressed their shrieks of surprise.

"Potter, are you trying to kill us?" Daphne hissed viciously.

"Don't do that, Harry! You're going to give us heart attacks!" Sheila said. "I'm too young to have a heart attack!"

"You mean die? I wouldn't mind if it was you, you would be doing the world a favor…" Daphne inserted. Sheila chucked a contempt look at her.

"Uh huh, that trick isn't going to work on me. Don't change the topic, now. I want to know what you girls have been up to lately." Harry's eyes narrowed. "Alright, spit it out."

"N-nothing!" Harry arched an eyebrow at Regine's slight stammer and obvious lie.

"Alright..." Callista confessed, sighing.

"Callista?" Daphne asked hesitantly. "You sure?"

"Oh, he's going to be angry now," Sheila muttered.

"I'll be the judge of that," Harry grumbled, annoyed. "It's my emotions, not yours."

"We have known you for three years Harry..." Regine murmured quietly. "You're going to be mad."

Harry exhaled his breath noisily, irritation swelling.

"Very well, Harry, we are going to tell you..." Callista comforted, knowing he was on the edge of explosion. She cast a silencing charm around them, followed by a calming charm on Harry. "It's on the relation of Nicholas Flamel and the forbidden corridor. We have been conferring about them for quite a while now, and it clicked to us instantly that the headmaster must be hiding the stone here in Hogwarts."

"Not just any stone. The Philosopher's Stone created by Nicholas Flamel," Daphne rectified Callista's mistake.

They all carefully observed him, gauging his reaction.

"You're not mad at us?" Sheila squeaked.

"Have you four gone to that corridor?"

"Well..." Sheila again started. They strangely reacted similarly, shuffling nervously in their seats.

"There is only one room there," Callista said hastily, eluding her gaze from his piercing eyes. "And we entered it with _Alohomora_."

"To my delight, Fluffy was also there. I played with him, nothing other than that," Regine said in a hurried tone, eyes affixed on the untouched books.

"There was a trapdoor and Fluffy was assigned to guard it…" Sheila looked away.

"Yes and we verified there are traps underneath it. Fluffy was just the first obstacle." Daphne clenched and unclenched her hands anxiously.

"We also figure out how the trap goes." This time, it was from Regine.

"A few of the professors that have Dumbledore's complete trust have set up their own traps. We suspect Professor Spout, Flitwick, McGonagall, Quirrell, Snape and Dumbledore placed the traps according to their most skillful area," Daphne stated.

"And that's it, that's all we know." Callista concluded their charade a little too abrupt.

"I have two questions," Harry said. "First, how did you know about the traps?"

"Hagrid," they chorused simultaneously.

"I still feel guilty about tricking him though. He thought we were asking to quench our curiosity and he was happy to tell us all he knew," Regine appended. "Poor fella..."

Harry's eyes twitched, only they would be capable of sapping every bit of information from the groundkeeper without Hagrid being conscious that he was actually being interrogated by the girls. How they accomplished it, mystified Harry to the very end. That was the sign and they all braced themselves for the inescapable wrath of Harry Potter.

"One more question." The girls were bewildered. "Callista, is the silencing charm still on?"

"Yes..." Callista nodded, understandingly confused.

"I see..." He shut his eyes, nodding his head. The girls were beyond relieved. That was before he snapped his eyes back open. His emerald eyes were blazing in fury. "Are you four out of your mind, touched in the head, perhaps? You could've gotten yourselves injured! Or worst, killed! What if someone finds out! How would you clarify that to them! That, you all are trying to satiate your curiosity? Have you seen how miserable the brats were because they were too nosy about something that doesn't concern them? That's the most foolish thing you four have ever done! And, you pulled that stunt without me by your side!" Harry closed his eyes, reverting to his cool composure. Kneading his temples, he sighed out of exhaustion. "Look, sorry about shouting like that. I'm just expressing my concern, that's all."

"Okay..." Sheila shakily replied.

"If it helps you calm down, we came up with our own theory in relation as to why the stone is in Hogwarts." Harry's ears perked up in interest at that revelation, his scowl not lessening one bit. He nodded his head, wordlessly imploring Callista to go on. "Yes, well, we think the stone is here for protection. Most people would kill to get their hands on the stone. It can produce an elixir to expand a person's life and convert any metal into gold. There's only one stone that's currently in existence and it belongs to none other than, Nicholas Flamel. We assumed the Flamels want their stone to be protected and requested Dumbledore, given how he's a powerful wizard."

"But..." Harry pressed on.

"It doesn't make sense if the Flamels came to Dumbledore just for protection," Regine butted in, her face pensive. "They must know that Hogwarts is full of kids and their stone will just jeopardize us in the procedure of guarding it. Even under the eye of Dumbledore, it's simply unfeasible for a person to succeed with so many people around. So, we thought it's something else."

"Why? I mean yeah, it's endangering the students… Still, that doesn't mean anything. We don't know the Flamels at all. Maybe they don't care what happens to us. They might be selfish, you know."

"Here, read this news, it's outdated, but you'll see what we mean." Sheila slid the newspaper to Harry, and he snatched it. His eyes gradually broadened as his eyes followed each words. Someone broke into Gringotts? Lowering the newspaper, his eyes glazed, a memory sprung to his mind. So that's what Hagrid fetched inside Gringotts. "Think about it, Harry. If the Flamels really want Dumbledore to protect their stone, then it would be adverse with the first explanation because it was first situated in Gringotts and not in Hogwarts. That person tried to steal the stone, the same day it wasn't there. Now, at the beginning of the school year, all of the sudden it's in Hogwarts. That's not just a coincidence."

"Wait, how do you girls know that the person is stealing the stone and at the same day, it isn't in there? How would you know the stone is in Gringotts in the first place?"

"Hagrid," they concurrently chipped in.

Harry was not amused. "What's the other theory?"

"We're getting to it," Daphne cut in. "Come on Potter, use your brain. If the stone isn't here for protection, then why is it here? What is its true purpose? Our guess is to lure someone or something to Hogwarts. That person or whatever it is, knows of the stone. Remember in the newspaper, someone broke in to steal the stone. That person might be related to all of this. There isn't any single person who would be foolish enough to rob Gringotts. So as to confront the person, Dumbledore resolved putting the stone near him. That way, he could try and catch the person in the act."

"Who do you think wants the stone?"

They faltered, unsure if they should tell him. "We suspect it's You-Know-Who. He is the only one that comes to mind," Callista murmured, no less their conversation won't be heard.

"Most people think he's dead," Sheila breathed her words, her gaze hardening. "None of us believe that… Some claim he's not dead yet."

"Others say his soul remained in this world and roams in search of a body," Regine filled in, her body was quivering. "It's a possibility."

"There's one thing the Philosopher's Stone can provide that isn't mentioned and that is granting the person a new body. I read it somewhere in the family library. It just points the theory more towards the truth." Daphne bit her bottom lip. "You know what that means, Potter? He's still out there, closer than we might think he is."

"So that's the end of discussion and your story. It's just a theory. This time, I want you four to promise that you won't be going anywhere near the corridor." They protested at this, however, one irritated look from Harry compelled them to murmur their promise.

"So... can we still visit Fluffy?" Regine fluttered her eyelashes in a purely innocent way.

"Hell no!" three girls cried out in horror, their mind swirling at the prospect of 'playing' with the beast. Regine sulked at that and Harry smothered the chuckles from his throat. That will teach them not to be so secretive about anything from him and sticking their cute arses where they shouldn't be.

* * *

><p><strong>4 Jun 1992.<strong>

The normal clatters were bustling in the Great Hall. Students were experiencing their customary routines, chatting among themselves and eating their lunch. The last of the exams had finished just this morning. The trio of Gryffindor were isolating themselves from their housemates, securing the seat near the grand door.

"Ron! Would you please stop sending them those looks!" Hermione snapped from her sitting position beside Daniel.

Ron's glare shifted to Hermione, now facing his front. "Did you forget something? They're the ones who made everyone turn on us." Looking over his shoulder, he glowered at Harry, who was conversing with Callista and Regine. They were soon joined by a grinning Sheila. She skidded to a stop at the Ravenclaw table and flopped herself next to Callista.

"Just let it go, Ron. That's my brother you're talking." Daniel scooped some pudding to his plate.

"I know that! But, if it wasn't for him reporting us to McGonagall-"

"Give it a rest, Ron. It's been a month already! Just forget about it! We can't do anything about it, can we?" Daniel retorted. "Whose fault is it for starting the whole mess?"

"What?" Ron was in incredulity. "You mean, it's mine?"

"Daniel is right, Ron. If you didn't provoke them, they might have left us peacefully. At the beginning of the term, we were given specific warnings by the prefects and it's your fault for taking them lightly," Hermione reproached, looking up to hit upon a gorgeous blond girl gracefully acquiring a seat across them. Hermione's eyes gleamed in envy at her flawless appearance. How could anyone be so beautiful? It had to be a crime, right?

"Our mistake to take them lightly, Hermione…" Daniel amended. "You and I made the same mistake as Ron, and don't you deny it, Hermione… After that wake up call, the first years were wary around them."

Hermione puckered her lips in dissatisfaction, inclined to argue with him. Nonetheless, she realized he was right and she loathed it. They had taken the warning far too flippantly. Oh, how terribly wrong they were. Not only had they employed some lethal spells that she was unable to differentiate, they deceived Professor McGonagall into punishing the trio scathingly. How could anyone be cruel enough into manipulating an authority figure?

"Are they normal?" Ron hissed. "Blimey, how can anyone cope with them? It's wrong for a house to socialize with other houses!"

He growled as he saw them teasing each other, chortling jubilantly without a care in the world. Ron unleashed his anger on the food that was served for the students, stuffing everything until his mouth couldn't handle the amount of food.

"How is that wrong?" Hermione puzzled, noting there was nothing iniquitous about befriending with other houses.

"Never has there been a group of friends representing each house, especially a Slytherin and a Gryffindor. It is normal to have friends from one or two houses, but never Slytherin. Its part of Hogwart's status quo," Daniel elucidated after carefully swallowing his food.

"I see…" Hermione was not so convinced. "But, that's just… stupid and ridiculous."

"That's how it is, Hermione." Daniel shrugged his shoulders carelessly, adjusting his glasses. "What Ron meant is why hasn't anyone said anything to them? Look-" Daniel gestured his head to them. "-they all sit together, talking casually and enjoying the company of each other. Not to mention, one of our housemates is laughing with a Slytherin. People aren't even objecting. Usually, if this happens, an upper year or a prefect will sort things out. Professors are out of the question, they don't mind what goes on with the students. In fact, they were thrilled that they're displaying house unity. Does a Professor go by the name McGonagall ring any bell? Yeah…She awarded them points for it."

"But, why won't people do anything if they think it was wrong?"

"That's what amazes me. People are actually afraid to say a word to them. Maybe they did, before we turned up in Hogwarts and my brother's group settled that mess. Remember one of the rumors concerning my brother in his first year?"

"Yeah…" Hermione nodded her head dubiously. "I find that hard to believe… Come on, a first year defending his friends from much larger upper years? How is that possible? It's ridiculous."

"What if it is true? Hagrid said that if anything is possible, it's them. He emphasized my brother's name, signifying my brother is capable of doing the impossible much more than the four girls." Hermione gulped her swollen throat audibly. The more reasons why they should not cross their path in the near future.

"Now that we're discussing about him… I feel something strange and suspicious about your brother, Daniel." Hermione was in her element.

"What about him? I admit he's pretty talented at a lot of stuff."

"Oh, not that!" Hermione snapped, irked on how every professor measured her up with Daniel's brother, or that Ravenclaw girl, Callista Campbell. "Remember the night Norbert hatched?"

"Yeah, what of it?" Daniel munched on his meal, uninterested.

"Well, it's just…something about how he knew Malfoy was there and where he's going. You recall what he said? 'As for Malfoy, we'll be facing him shortly with professor McGonagall'. It's as if he knew that from the very beginning what Malfoy would do…Highly suspicious, I say..."

"He was assuming, Hermione, nothing more, nothing less…" Daniel said, not truly listening.

"Not really," Hermione squabbled. "He closed his eyes first before confirming where Malfoy was… Why did he do that?"

"You mean like sensing other people's magic? Is that where you're getting at, Hermione?" Her eyes lit up, igniting another round of sigh from her companion. "Look Hermione, as talented as my brother is, that's absurb. How could anyone sense someone else's magic just by closing their eyes, hmmm? I never heard of that kind of magic. Not from the headmaster, my parents or my uncles. Our magic revolves around our wands, Hermione. It's merely a coincidence, nothing more. Even for him, it's just not possible."

"But, you're the one who said that if anyone can do the impossible, it's your brother." Hermione was feeling smug that she got him back at him.

"Well…" Daniel pondered a bit. "You do have a point there. But- But, it's just not possible for anyone! You're the one with the brains, Hermione, try thinking logically."

"I guess you're right…"

Daniel eyed his best friend up and down, suspicious. "Are you sure you're not saying all this because you fancy him?"

Hermione chocked back her food, coughing violently. "W-What are you saying, Daniel!" Her face was beet red.

"Oh, please, it's never a secret that every girl is crazy about him, even the younger Professors, Sinistra and Vector." Daniel rolled his eyes.

"W-Well… I do admire him a bit…" Daniel gave her a deadpan look. "Okay, fine! I mean, who can help it? He's handsome, talented, intelligent, cool and just well…um…delicious…." Hermione said in a small voice, her face was scarlet. "…The real reason is that he confronted me two weeks ago… He uh… apologized to me and threatened some people who were mean to me. After that, nobody bothered me… He's a kind-hearted person if you don't get on his bad side… I'm interested to know what kind of person he is..."

"What!" Ron hissed, bits of food spitting out of his stuffed mouth.

Hermione didn't hassle in masking her disgust. Daniel fared no better, barely concealing his expression, even though he had gotten used to it.

"Ron! Swallow first before you talk!" Hermione reprimanded.

"You-talk-to-him!" He disregarded her last statement, a hint of betrayal in his tone. "Why? He's a bloody scumbag!"

Hermione's eyes locked up above. Daniel followed her line of sight, what he saw caused his eyes to widen. A shadow loomed over Ron, freezing his body solid. His mouth dried up in fear. A hand laid on one of his shoulders, jolting him a little. "My, my, Weasley. It would seem, you're not the type of person to learn from your past mistakes. Do you need another lesson? I don't mind doing it right here, right now. In fact, I'm happy to oblige. Don't think for one second that I wasn't aware of the glares you kept sending at me."

Ron felt a shiver run down his spine in fear. He squeaked in pain when the hand began gripping his shoulder strongly. Smirking at the Weasley boy, Harry looked up to perceive his brother and Hermione were awestruck of him. Neither was aware of him sneaking up to their table. "There's something I would like to talk with you. Since exams ended this morning, I think we should have a little chat. Hermione and the Weasley will be staying here. I mean now, brat." Liberating his grasp from the Weasley, Harry strode out of the Great Hall.

Ron clutched his shoulder painfully, moaning pitifully. "I think it's broken, I heard a crack just now. Oh, dear Merlin…"

"That's your fault for insulting him! Don't say I didn't warn you!" Hermione scolded. Budging her head to Daniel, her expression softened and she bumped her shoulder with his. "You should go. Your brother doesn't look the type to patiently wait for people."

"You should go to the infirmary and have Madam Pomfrey check up on you. I'll see you later, Ron. You too, Hermione."

"Wait, y-yyou're going? B-b-but- but…"

"Ron, no matter what he's done to me, he's still my brother…by blood, that is…" Giving pitying looks, Daniel was on his feet and he rushed outside the Great Hall, abandoning his two friends behind.

* * *

><p>Harry steered his brother to a special spot he frequently hung around with the girls, or by himself. The fierce wind grazed them and their attire. The sun shone over them and clouds bundled together up above. Harry leaned his body against the large Oak tree, facing the lake. Closing his eyes, he whistled a familiar soft tune. Daniel seated himself on the soft grass, unsure of what to say. His brother didn't appear to mind of the awkwardness.<p>

"I reckon you have learned your lesson about sticking your nose in what does not relevant to you?"

"Y-yeah…" Daniel unsteadily answered.

Dumping his body unceremoniously on the greenish grass, he gazed the sky with mixed emotions. Harry was desperate to find the information about the Flamels and after some time, his impatience coerced him to seek for the old man's advice. If anything goes on in this world, Merlin would know about it. He did reply, but it rolled up in a form of a question.

_If you obtained a prize possession of your own, how valuable would it be to you after several centuries?_

Harry interpreted the cryptic message. If there was one, there's no way in hell Harry would let it go. Death is the only method to keep him apart from it and so, the conclusion to all of it is that the Flamels are truly dead. Just like Merlin affirmed it to him last summer, immortality does not assure a perfect life. Subsequent to living for so long, it simply drives you to death's embrace more, exploring the best way to terminate your life. The Flamels picked an appropriate death for them, alright - old age.

"You're an idiot…" Daniel didn't dare to retort. "Tell me everything you know about the stone and I won't make you miserable more than you do right now. Keep your pet on a tight lease and I won't have any reason to trouble you." Daniel flinched at who Harry was indicating to. "Yes, the Weasley boy. He's a nuisance. I can't believe you are friends with such idiotic person. Just ditch that fool, you'll have more problems with him around. Either way, it's your choice, as long as you curb his idiocy, then I don't care." Harry scanned for any reaction from his brother. "That, and I'll tell you how to regain the points you loss."

"Why are you doing this?" Daniel inquired. "Isn't your role as an older brother to care for your younger siblings?"

Sitting upright, Harry's bored expression was swamped to coldness. "Don't make me reiterate myself, brat. Rosaline Potter is my only sibling."

Eluding his fierce eyes, Daniel dropped his gaze. "Why? We're brothers, aren't we? There's nothing to contradict on that. How long are you going to be in denial?"

In the blink of an eye, a hand clenched Daniel's shirt, and he was on his toes. He was met with icy emerald eyes. "Denial, you say? Listen brat, between you and me, we are not alike. True, we share blood and parents, but one thing for certain is that I'm more distinct than you. I don't follow someone blindly, fooling around with some pranks, becoming a pompous little man, wasting my time in foolish things, easily influenced by other people and definitely not friends with the Weasleys, the narrow minded family." Roughly, he propelled Daniel away and the small boy tumbled to the ground, wincing in pain.

Daniel struggled to stand on his feet, glowering at his brother. "I don't care if you want to insult me or make fun of me but don't- I repeat, don't ever insult the Weasleys. They are more of a family to me than you ever were."

"Is that a threat?" Harry arched an eyebrow at his tone. Burying his hands in his trouser's pockets, he continued. "What are you going to do? The flabby woman that smothers you is just a woman who likes to control people. I get that, if I know them more personally, that they are good people, but their flaws are too great not to miss."

That was the last straw. Roaring angrily, Daniel whipped his wand out. Somewhat taken aback that his brother hadn't extract his wand out, Daniel discarded it. He cried out the spell and cast it directly to his older brother. Sidestepping it, Harry dashed at an unimaginable speed. Daniel was too sluggish to react and his wand was slapped away by Harry. He grabbed Daniel's shirt for the second time and lifted him up. Flipping him upside down, Harry pitched his small body to the ground. There was a thud and Daniel groaned painfully, lying flat on the ground. Bloody hell, now Daniel knew why his brother didn't bother bringing out his wand. He was still deadly as ever, even without a wand in hand.

"Idiot, you don't have to shout out the spell, saying it is more than enough. Screaming doesn't affect the spell's power. It depends on how many times you perfecting the spell and how much magic you pour into it. Honestly, giving away what spell you cast to your enemy, what an amateur." Dusting his attire offhandedly, Harry smoothened his robe. "If this was a real duel, you would be dead in a matter of seconds, brat. Dueling isn't about your temper or how fast you reach for your wand, it's about finesse, stamina and instinct. There are other ways to claim victory other than applying deadly magic to your enemies. Now, are you going to listen to me or am I going to have to beat you to submission?"

"No, let's talk..." Daniel croaked, little by little, proceeding into a sitting position. "Where to start?"

Inspecting the wand first, Harry tossed it to his brother. "From the very beginning…"

* * *

><p>"So you three believe Snape is aiming to steal the stone and kill you?" Harry was propping his back against the large Oak tree.<p>

"Yeah, that's what we'd like to think." Daniel cringed every once in a while at the pain his brother inflicted on him earlier.

Harry's eyes shimmered in amusement. "Does the Weasley boy even use his brain?"

Daniel shot him a disdain look before sighing. He had no reply for that statement. It was rather rare for Ron to utilize his brain, now that Daniel thought of it. "The point is, we think Snape wanted to steal the stone for You-Know-Who."

"You destroyed him when you were one, yet you can't bloody say his name? So much for the great Boy-Who-Lived then," Harry countered mordantly, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What is with you? Are you insane! You can't just say his name like he's someone close to you! People are still afraid of him for what he did!"

"Voldemort."

Daniel shivered. "Harry, wh-"

"Voldemort."

"Stop it!" Daniel hissed.

"Voldemort."

"Shut up!" Daniel cried out.

Harry glared at his brother. "That's the problem here. The more you fear the name, the more you fear of the man. Tell me, if you're afraid to even say his name, then how the hell are you going to stand up to him again without trembling in fear? He'll mock you and laugh at you. That's for certain. He just says his own name and you cower before him. Easy victory. To think you Gryffindors are proud of your house's bravery and yet none of you can even bloody say the man's name. How pathetic. It's probably not even his name to begin with."

Daniel wheeled his head away. "You're right… V-V-Oh for Merlin sake! Voldemort!"

At that, he got himself a strong whack at the back of his head. Daniel clutched his head with both of his hands, moaning. "You don't have to shout, brat. It's just a bloody name, a silly name I might add. People these days are bloody idiots if you ask me," Harry declared indifferently, shuffling over to his previous spot.

"Anyway..." Daniel rubbed his sore head. "How are you going to help us recover the points back?"

"No, that's not important right now. Did you say the unicorns are dead and someone has been drinking its blood?"

"Yeah, the night we got detention in the forbidden forest."

"Do you know what the Unicorn's blood is used for?"

"Yes, I know. Firenze explained it to me-"

"Firenze?" Harry interjected in mild shock. "That explains it. So you met him, huh? Bet you met Bane too, that prick of a horse. The next time I see him, I'll kick that horse butt of his, I'll doubly sure of it."

"Wait, you know the centaurs in the forest?"

"Yeah, me and the girls venture to the forest in our first year. We were reckless back then. Regine was adamant to encounter with some new creatures, and all of us chose to follow her. We thought we were doing her a favor, instead she saved our skin in the end. Of course, we bumped with the centaurs in the middle of our exploration. Bane was tolerable enough in Regine's presence, it's us he gruff at. That moron. He insulted us with no shame at all... The others were alright, some didn't like us because we're human. They didn't mind Regine though."

"What is she?" Daniel blurted. The temperature turned cold regardless of the blaring sun.

"You said it as if she's not human at all," Harry said in a stony low voice, looking dangerous.

"No! I didn't mean like that, it's just fascinating how magical creatures treat her, j-just like how she nursed the baby dragon, Norbert! I'm curious, that's all," Daniel objected in an instant, cursing silently for his impulsiveness.

"I'll let it slide for now." Daniel breathed a sigh of relief. "If you really want to know her, then do it yourself. It's nothing wrong for you to have a conversation with her. She won't mind answering those questions. Unless you offend her with your manners, I'll do far worse than what I did to you before, you got that?" Daniel nodded his head fervently, knowing what's best for him. "All four of them, so you better keep the Weasley boy's mouth shut."

Harry rose to his feet, stretching his arms lazily. He spun around and stalked back to the castle.

"Wait!" Daniel grabbed his brother's arm in a frantic motion. Harry jerked his arm away, prompting Daniel to stagger back. "What about the deal? How do I regain those points back?"

"Eager to put your fame on top again, aren't you?"

"N-no, that's not it!"

"Yeah, yeah." Harry snubbed the protest away, waving his hand lazily. "If you aren't aware the real situations right now, then I tell you. The headmaster isn't here at the moment. He left a moment ago when the Ministry of Magic owled him for urgent matters. Professor McGonagall was kind enough to inform me that he flew off to London straight away, or apparated to the Ministry."

"W-what!" Daniel was stunned. "There's no one to guard the stone now! What do we do? Snape will- it's tonight..." He looked up at Harry, eyes shone in determination. "The professors won't be much of help... Harry, we need-"

"Forget it," Harry disrupted him brusquely. "Look brat, I'm not some hero wannabe that is destined to save the British Wizarding World from perish. If it must perish, then so be it. I'll go someplace else to live, end of story. British isn't the only country with the Wizarding World, almost all of the country have magical governments."

"So that's it!" Daniel was enraged, his chestnut brown eyes flared. "You're just going to walk away, act as if it's nothing out of the ordinary and choose the coward's path?"

"You've got some guts telling me that. If you're going to rescue the stone by plunging through those traps, then by all means, go ahead and be my guest. You're doing someone a favor while you're at it. You Gryffindors always brash into things without thinking it through. What is wrong with you Gryffindors? Don't you have brains to begin with? Try to reflect on the situation first. Thank god, Sheila isn't like that anymore."

"What's there to think about? If we could just go in there and defend the stone from-"

"Say you miraculously manage to pass the traps without any harm, then what? What are you going to do when you confront an adult who knows hundred of spells and dueling experience in his or her side, while you- you only have a few of spells in your arsenal? Worst, it's Voldemort we're talking about, then what are you going to do? Stand there, and pray to Merlin or whoever watching you from above? You can't even defeat me in one on one combat, let alone tackling the real thing."

"I-I don't know, okay! I'll think of something! That isn't the problem right now! We need to get the stone to safety!"

"Safety, you say? Stubborn, aren't you? You know what I think? I think I'll stake my life on the traps, instead of letting the stone's safety on some few naive first years," Harry spat. "Just leave it be, brat. It doesn't concern you or any students. It's the headmaster responsibility, he's the one who asked us to stay away from it. If something happens, the headmaster will do something. Tell me, did you lose faith on him?"

"No, of course not, but Dumbledore isn't here, so it's our responsibility to safeguard the stone since we know it's in danger!" Daniel raised his voice, glaring his brother in the eyes. "Listen Harry, I know we don't act like brothers. Heck, people would be safe to say we're strangers, but this is something we can't allow V-Voldemort to get his hands on. Innocent people will die and another war will break out if it is in his possession. Do you want that?"

"I told you for the last time, it ain't my problem. Go ahead, and do whatever the hell you want, brat." With those words he left hanging in the air, Harry returned to the castle, not sparing any single glances to his brother.

* * *

><p>Harry motionlessly stood some distance from his brother and Quirrell. He smirked in delight as neither noticed his presence. He could never get bored with this ancient spell stuff. While they were having their lousy conversation, Harry eyed the mirror, studying it from afar. His heart was beating violently and he involuntarily backed away from it. That mirror, Callista once mentioned it to him. One time, she researched it in the library out of interest. It was the Mirror of Erised. It showed not your reflection but your deepest desire. Inside Harry, it turned ice at hearing the mirror from Callista for the first time.<p>

After that, he wondered what his heart desire most in this world. Of course, Harry knows what he desired the most, power, and for the girls to not abandon him so that he won't have to suffer the loneliness he endured during his childhood. He was confident in what he wished for. Still, the sinking feeling he underwent, told him otherwise and that he was lying to himself. When in truth, Harry was afraid to cast the slightest peek into the mirror. His palms were buried in sweat as they balled into a tight fist. Why? If he was so certain of himself, why is it he has to fear that piece of junk? He shouldn't fret over trivial matters since someone's life is on the line.

Forcefully driving those thoughts to the back of his mind, he was now aware that Quirrell was desperate to acquire the stone.

A cold chill swept to his body at the sound of another voice that didn't belong to any of them. The voice seemed to come from behind Quirrell. It was cold as ice, hissing in an inhumanly tone. Harry scowled, it sent shivers through his body. He watched the events unfold as Quirrell used his brother to lure the stone out. Harry was incredibly impressed, discerning the huge bulge in one of Daniel's pocket. That was a neat trick. Only Dumbledore would come up with something so odd. The headmaster does live up to his reputation of being barmy.

The brat got some guts, Harry had to admit. His lying even duped Harry for a second there, though, it didn't fool the only non-human in the room. When the voice rang the second time, Harry was getting annoyed. Should he just burn Quirrell to the ground now, or what? Harry was actually waiting for the perfect opportunity. He didn't feel like getting involved in the conflict. He preferred if the attention was diverted to his little brother. There are some things best remain secret. In this case, the ancient world and the terrifying knowledge Harry possessed that both once existed.

"The boy lies...he lies..." the voice echoed.

Harry rerouted his concentration to Quirrell, his smelly turban to be precise. There's no mistaken, the voice was coming from the disgusting turban.

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted and he got a hold of Daniel, grounding his body to still. "Tell me the truth! Do not lie! Where is the stone?"

"The mirror tells what your heart desires most and I did tell you what I saw! The stone isn't with me." Harry's lips twitched a little, almost smiling at his brother's confident tone.

"Lies! He lies again!" There's the high voice again. "Let me speak to him..."

"B-but, Master!-"

"Silence Quirrell! You dare question me!"

"N-no, Master..."

Quirrell slackened his grip from Daniel. Shuffling a few steps back, he reached up for his turban and started to unwrap it. Unconsciously, Harry moved closer to them. As the turban fell away, Harry watched as the man turned slowly, his back facing them. Harry's mouth parted slightly, staggered to discover another face planted on the back of Quirrell's head. He felt nausea rising up from his stomach, nearly puking from witnessing such face. He took his words back, the face was much more disgusting than Quirrell's turban. Harry was beginning to comprehend at what had occurred to Quirrell. The man was no death eater, he was possessed by Voldemort! The girls were right, his spirit was roaming around in search of a body.

Harry cursed at his current situation. It's just getting worst and worst. If Voldemort is possessing Quirrell's body, then the man is no longer alive. His mind is controlled by Voldemort and there's no reason for Harry to rescue Quirrell. It would be the same as facing Voldemort himself. Just what Harry needed, a maniac rising from his death. But, if Voldemort is in spirit form, then there is a chance to drive the bastard away and the only method is by ways of exorcising. This wouldn't affect Quirrell much considering the spell was more or less intended for spirits.

"Daniel Potter..." it whispered. "How intriguing you have become..."

Discarding their interactions, Harry was swiftly in a defensive stance. He had never tried this spell before, it was a holy based spell. It's specifically for banishing spirits the user wish to rid of. He clasped his hands together, looking as if he was praying. He closed his eyes, bringing his mind to serenity, taking a few moments to accomplish it. He, then, whispered a few words in an undistinguishable language. He chanted the words over and over again. Feeling his magic bubbling, he chanted the words more loudly. The occupants in the room couldn't hear it, since Harry was still under his silencing spell.

"Do you see what I had become, boy?" it hissed. Daniel was wide-eye struck, his body wasn't responding to him. He couldn't move a single muscle. "A shadow and vapor... mere spirit with no body to walk in...you did this to me, Daniel Potter...The only thing that strengthened me these past few weeks is the unicorn blood... I have to use Quirrell's body to drink it... Never mind, once I have the stone in my palm, I no longer require the unicorn blood... Now...why don't you give me that stone in your pocket?" Daniel stiffened, stumbling back. "Boy, hand me the stone now!" the face snarled angrily. "Or you shall suffer the dire consequence-"

It abruptly cut short as the face screamed, feeling the fire burning and steam emerged from his face.

"Master! Master, what's wrong?" Voldemort's answer was screeching more and more. "You! What have you done to my master!"

"I-I..."

"Forget the boy and seize the stone from him! The stone, you fool!"

Opening his eyes, he ditched his stance. Harry was annoyed for underestimating Voldemort. He was certain he would abandon Quirrell's body rather than bear the agony. If Harry can't repulse his spirit away from Hogwarts, then the alternate option would be to kill his host. Daniel sprang towards the flame door, but was detained by Quirrell who froze his body to the ground. Harry stealthily danced his way to Daniel's side. Quirrell was on top of Daniel, pinning him down. Looking down, Harry saw his brother closing his eyes, seemingly in anguish. Daniel's scar was dripping in blood. He smirked at the position they're in. If it were not for such a grave situation, he would be laughing at their compromising situation.

Disposing his own amusement, Harry arranged his hands inches near Quirrell. "_Distraho ut cinis cineris_."

Much to Daniel's astonishment, he didn't sense Quirrell's hands on his wrist anymore. He opened his eyes, in time to see Quirrell hunched up in pain. Both of his hands were gone, melting right before his eyes. Quirrell was wailing at the loss of his hands. Daniel stood up, his eyes never leaving Quirrell's form. Harry narrowed his eyes, one hand thoughtfully rubbing his chin. He was fascinated by the effect of the spell. Wandlessly, Harry controlled Daniel's body and had him jump onto Quirrell like a predator assailing its victim. Harry flicked his finger, hoisting both Daniel's hands and allowing it to have contact with Quirrell's face.

Harry cast the earlier spell on Quirrell again, pouring more magic into it. Consequently, Quirrell's didn't get the opportunity to scream as his face melted. His body followed suited and Quirrell was completely obliterated, leaving his clothes and a pile of ashes. Both brothers peered at what's left of Quirrell. As they did, they sighed concurrently, both thinking it was over. Out of nowhere, a shrouded shade materialized itself from Quirrell. Daniel whimpered, clutching his forehead where his scar lay. The shade let out a loud growl and it lunged at Daniel. It soared through Daniel's body causing the boy to collapse to the ground, instantly losing consciousness.

Harry cursed himself for dropping his guard as he hastened towards his brother. Harry checked Daniel's pulse and then his breathing, endeavoring to identify his brother's state. Grumbling, Harry didn't know whether to be pleased or upset that his brother was still alive. Harry lifted his head up to look for the shade. Harry froze. It was lingering there, staring fiercely right in his direction, not Daniel's, straight at him. Did Voldemort know he was here the whole time? That's impossible. He was in ancient spell, and no modern wizard could detect him, no matter how powerful they were. If Voldemort did sense him, why didn't he announce Harry's presence? Nothing makes sense at all.

Blinking his eyes, the shade had now vanished like it was never there in the first place. It appeared to have gone while he was lost in his thoughts. Accidently, Harry gazed towards the Mirror of Erised. His face drained of all colors at the sight. His breath hitched, mouth parted in shock and his heart beat seemed to stop for a second. Erratically, he wobbled his way to the mirror, his wide eyes stuck on it. His entire body was trembling. Harry couldn't believe what he saw in the mirror. Reaching out to the mirror with a shaky hand, he touched it. Hands pressed flatly against the glass in disbelief.

In the reflection, he was greeted by a miniature version of him, grinning brightly. A beautiful woman with red blazing hair and bright emerald eyes, was embracing his miniature self and was smiling widely. They were joined by a tall, extremely handsome man. The man wore round glasses and his dark tuft hair was unruly. The man was grinning proudly at Harry's miniature self. Out of the blue, a fist flew towards the mirror, the sheer force breaking the mirror. The cracks were evident where the fist struck.

Harry extracted his right hand from the mirror, apparently not noticing the several tiny pieces of glass embedded in his fist. His right hand was a mixture of purple and blue, throbbing painfully. Thick blood trickled out of his right hand. Even so, Harry was oblivious to all of it. His jaws were tightened, tears blurring his vision and his teeth furiously gnashed together. He didn't know what came over him. The anger, fury, sadness and all negative emotions dominated him. His punch was aided by a subconscious use of magic and it had a deadly impact on the mirror.

For a while, he sat alone along with his unconscious pitiful brother in the chamber. There was a furious scowl on his face. His eyes flicked to the bulge inside one of Daniel's pockets. Crawling over to Daniel, he fumbled inside Daniel's pocket and grasped the object. Yanking it out, Harry held it high. The famous Philosopher's Stone was an unusual shaped stone and it was blood red in color. He contemplated at the stone for a few minutes, the scowl on his face gradually lessened at each passing seconds.

"Immortality, huh?" Harry said to no one in particular.

_The choices you make will lead you on many different paths. Disastrous consequences are around every corner so do what you feel is right and treat it with vigilance. _Those words echoed in his mind. It was now Harry understood what Merlin insinuated. Glancing at the mirror for the second time, Harry was on his two feet, astounded at the changes of the reflection in the mirror. He smiled, no anger blinding his sight. "You underestimate me old man… I don't need immortality. I already have everything… Nothing is perfect in this world, not even you..."

Far away, in a large mansion, a lone man smiled.

Unfaltered, Harry threw the stone up in the air. "_Reducto maxima!_" He poured a large amount of magic into the spell. The stone exploded into a million pieces. No one would be able to use the stone ever again. He did what the Flamels failed to do.

Harry exhaled his breath noisily, feeling the burden on his shoulders lifted. There were footsteps coming. Harry gazed down at his brother. From now on, he would only trouble Harry more and more. Circling around, Harry was about to leave the chamber. He glanced one more time at the mirror and smiled vibrantly at the four familiar faces. They waved at him and returned his smile. Last but not least, there was a man with long raven hair and twinkle blue eyes. To his mild surprise, there was his cute baby sister sitting in front of the group, laughing and clapping cheerfully at him.

Part of his heart, perhaps, yearned for his parent's attention. Perhaps, the reason why he wanted to be powerful and establish a name for himself was seeking for his parent's attention. However, that part of his heart was no longer important to him. That desire was long forgotten, nothing more than the past. He had given up such desires because right now, there are other people who cared for him. Sparing one last longing look, Harry disappeared through the flame door as the professors burst in, rushing towards Daniel's fallen form.

* * *

><p><strong>5 Jun 1992.<strong>

Daniel blinked his eyes, trying to clear his blur vision. He blinked his eyes for a second time. He squeaked when a fist flew straight towards his face. Promptly, he sat upright, completely forgetting his burning ache muscles. He backed away frantically as the fist drew nearer and nearer. All of a sudden, it halted and withdrew. It drew a sigh of relief from the boy. As the fist no longer blocked his sight, the smirking face of Harry swam into view.

"What was that for?" he snarled. "I thought for sure it was going to hit me."

"Nothing, just testing your reflexes," Harry nonchalantly remarked. "It pains me to say, but they were impressive."

Daniel was mystified, "Huh?" It was rare for his brother to compliment him.

"For a weakling, of course..." Daniel pursed his lips, he should have known better. "Anyway, do you know where you are?"

Daniel stared at him blankly, before exclaiming, "The stone! It was Quirrell! He's-"

"-dead," Harry said firmly. Daniel's eyes grew wide and he brooded, burying his face deeper into the pillow. "As to where you are? You're in the infirmary. You've been unconscious for a day now. Madam Pomfrey did say you'll be in unconscious state for three days."

"Then how was I-"

"Oh that?" Whipping his wand out, he conjured a beautiful chair. Daniel sweat-dropped, the chair was a bit exaggerating from normal chairs. "I forced you to wake up. I sneaked out after everyone went to bed."

"Is that possible?"

"It's not a matter of possible or not. I do as I please," Harry stated, as if it was the obvious. "This, however, isn't what I came here for. I woke you up because we both need to have a talk." Daniel bobbed his head. "After that, you won't have to worry a thing. I'll knock you back out. That way, no one will be suspicious."

"How are you going to do that?"

"Oh? Are you stupid? I'm going to punch you until you faint, brat." Daniel regretted asking. "So brat, how does it feel?"

"How does what feel?"

"Being the boy-who-lived, of course. You can't bask in your glory anymore without thinking someone is out there hunting for you." Daniel faced away from his brother. "Not so fun anymore, is it? All your glory that you're so proud of has made your life that much more dangerous. Fame has its price, you know, and in your case the price is your life."

"Look, if all you wanted to do was hurt me, congratulations, you're doing a good job."

"Hmph, pathetic. Crying over nothing," Harry grumbled. "I'm not here to make you cry. I'm here to advise you to not trust everyone you meet."

"Huh?" Daniel wheeled his head to his brother. "Why are you giving me advice?"

"Because you're my brother, that's why…" Daniel looked up at his brother, his eyes sparkled with curiosity and hope. "The truth can be a beautiful thing, but it can also easily flip your life upside down and not in a good way either. You're still young so I don't expect you to take my words to heart anytime soon."

"Is that all you want to say?"

"Do you find it weird that three first years were able to pass the traps?"

"I don't think so. We-"

"When are you going to stop being arrogant!" Harry snapped, irritated. Daniel was taken aback at his tone. "What you did back there was pure luck. You're lucky you're alive right now especially after not taking my warning seriously. How dumb have you become?" Harry inhaled a deep breath, sighing tiredly. "Listen, brat. Professor Dumbledore means well and he truly does. His heart is in the right place but you have to know this. It's his methods that are terribly wrong in so... many ways. He's manipulating you, can't you see it? He's planning to sacrifice you in the near future. Not now, perhaps in many years to come. Who knows what he's planning. He's visualizing a bigger picture and for that reason, he won't hesitate to sacrifice someone. He thinks there's no other way except sacrificing a few people."

"You're saying as if he's the bad guy, Harry…"

"No, that's ridiculous…" Harry said firmly. "I didn't mean it to be like that. He's a good guy, just...a manipulative person... He's more into the whole forest thing, than caring the trees…" Shaking his head, Harry heaved a sigh at the silence from his brother. "You should know better in carving your own path and not follow someone blindly." Harry rose up, doing so the chair banished itself.

"What did you just do?" Daniel demanded, his eyes fixed on the spot the chair previously occupied. He didn't see his brother use a wand.

"What? Never seen a wandless magic?" Harry's lips twitched. "Someone taught me how to do it. Though, it isn't perfect as I'm restricted to my hands, whereas my mentor can do with a mere thought. Amazing, isn't it? Of course, it is." Harry yawned audibly, his eyelids felt heavy. "Well, this is where we split. Now, hold still, this isn't going to hurt a bit." Hands holding on each side of Daniel's face, Harry forced him to stare into his emerald eyes. "_Meus existence in vestri mens quod monumentum mos signu..." _There was a bright white light in the infirmary.

Liberating Daniel's head from his grasp, Daniel looked around him wildly. "What did you just do? What kind of spell is that?"

"That, you stupid little man, is a spell I learnt a while back. I sealed your memories of this encounter. Don't worry, I didn't wreck your mind even though it was tempting." Daniel looked as if he had swollen a toilet brush. "It's nothing too dangerous, but it's a powerful spell. Let's just say, when someone reads your mind or uses veritaserum on you, you won't spill anything about me. Any memories you had about me will be hidden somewhere in your thick head. If you try to talk about our discussion, your mind will go blank. You can only talk about me to those I approve. Any questions?"

"Why did you do that?"

"That's a stupid question. What we discussed is important. Do you really expect me to let you run off and tell everyone? And for your information, I won't allow you to just walk away after what you had just witnessed. I don't want my abilities to be known… Can you imagine the repercussion of it?" Daniel opened his mouth, but Harry beat him to it. "Do you have to ask? Seriously, are we really related to each other? I must have taken up all the intelligence genes..." Daniel appeared to be genuinely affronted. "I don't have any desire to attract unwanted attention."

"Attention from who?"

Harry's eyes twitched. Was he really related to the brat? He must surely be adopted.

"Forget it, and now..." Harry waved his hand casually at Daniel. "_Somnus."_

As Harry murmured the words softly, Daniel drifted into a peaceful slumber, his eyes succumbing to darkness instantly. Another wave of his hand, the silence ward surrounding them dropped. Murmuring some incantations, his body slowly became invisible. Whistling in a low tone, he walked away from the infirmary towards the Ravenclaw common room. Now, he could get his beauty sleep after a long exhausting day.


	8. Chapter 7, Season 1

**Chapter 7.**

**6 Jun 1992.**

There was a large cheer from the Quidditch field and a faint groan of discontent. The end of a turbulent game was being conducted in the field. All of the students and staff members had come by to watch, as the match would decide who was worthy of winning the Quidditch cup for the season.

"Harry Potter scores again, making it his twentieth goal..." The commentary position was filled in by Lee Jordan, as usual. However, his generally uncontainable spirit appeared slightly diminished. "Ravenclaw leads 220 to 140… The Gryffindors out there are getting crushed, people. Harry Potter looks unbeatable right now. He just scored six times in a row, stealing every chance for the Gryffindors to score - bloody troublesome, that guy."

"Jordan!"

"Professor, do you see our team is being flattened out there, all because of that stupid-"

"I'm warning you, Jordan!"

"Alright, alright... But, uh... Professor?"

"Jordan, are you having a conversation or performing your duty?"

"Yes, Professor, but, uh... why is your flag blue with the emblem 'HP'? Aren't Gryffindors red? Shouldn't it be a 'G' instead of 'HP'? Hey, doesn't 'HP' stand for Harry-"

"Jordan! Get back on commentary!" McGonagall interrupted in embarrassment, her face was a nice shade of red. True enough, McGonagall was waving a small blue flag in her right hand.

"Yes, well! We're back on the game!" His eyes bugged out at the score. "Bloody hell! 250 to 150, what are you Gryffindors doing out there! Oy, Weasleys! Are you two slacking off? Knock Potter out!" McGonagall was thunderstruck at the tone, and for once, didn't bother to reproach Jordan. "If you can't defeat him, get the bloody snitch! Don't be so incompetent!"

Mounting his broom back to the defensive position, Harry smirked at the scores. Jeffery Barkain, the captain of Ravenclaw, nodded his head in acceptance of Harry's performance. Harry signaled him across the distance, indicating he could go for the snitch. Corroborating the signal, Jeffery nodded his head again in agreement and whooshed off to locate the snitch.

The Ravenclaws' style had been consistently simple in each game. Barkain's job was to distract the opposing team's seeker as long as he could, allowing Harry to launch his relentless assaults until the opposing team didn't stand a chance of catching up to the score. Harry's specialty was stealing and fast attacks. The match had only been going on for roughly thirty minutes, yet the Gryffindors were already squashed. Sheila's face was flushed in anger as she glared at Harry furiously. Seeing the glare Sheila dispatched to him, Harry's smirk expanded. Teasingly, he blew a kiss to the girl, furthering her anger. With steam coming out of her ears and her nostrils, she let out a loud, aggravated shout and darted by Wood to snatch the Quaffle.

"Alright, this time around, distract Johnson and Spinet while I handle Sheila. Let them get near our keeper and draw them in, that's when we strike them. If this works, we'll steal the ball and score again," Harry commanded.

Shannon Aiden, a Ravenclaw chaser, bobbed her head.

"Why should we listen to you, Potter? You're not our captain." Unfortunately, that year, the honor of the last chaser went to Roger.

"Shut up, Davies! You're so annoying. I don't know why we put up with your whining all the time," Shannon defended Harry vehemently. "Harry has more experience than both of us. You're lucky you're decent enough to be a chaser. Do as he says or you'll be hearing from our captain later on. You can save your complaint for Professor Flitwick later."

Roger grumbled in defeat, sending an icy glare to Harry. Harry rolled his eyes at this. Roger's looks aren't so intimidating.

"Alright, get to your position," Harry ordered, noting that Roger followed his direction. "Aiden, aid Davies while you can. I don't think he has the skill to deal Spinnet. Oh, and good job out there, you were brilliant, Aiden..." Said girl blushed intensely at the praise from the appealing guy and skillfully moved to Johnson. A devilish smirk curled on his lips as that'll make her more resolute than ever. Switching his eyes upfront, he saw Sheila rushing to the keeper stand at a breakneck speed. Two of her teammates were by her side, each displaying identical expressions to Sheila's. Playfully, Harry flew to Sheila's side, matching her speed and smirking at her.

"Don't look so smug, Potter! This isn't the end," Sheila barked, bumping him with her body just enough to lose him. Harry merely switched to her other side, flying upside-down above Sheila and boasting his talent. His fans cheered him on. Sheila gnashed her teeth irritably at this, clutching the Quaffle tightly.

"Come on Sheila, just give me the Quaffle and let us win this."

"In your dreams, Potter! Let's see if you can keep up with me!" Abruptly, she dived downward, not slowing her broom's current speed, taking a huge risk. Just as she almost touched the ground, she pulled back and accelerated her broom more. There was a cheer from Gryffindor but it died down instantly. Fluttering her eyes, she looked to her left side. There, the smirking face of Harry was flying by her side. He was waving at her, too.

"Give up?" She steered her broom to her left hastily, assaulting Harry with her body. She managed to deter him, but only by haltering his flying slightly.

"You're forgetting something, Sheila. My body is much stronger than yours and you're much smaller than me."

"You think, Potter?" Sheila threw the Quaffle up in the air with all her might. "Alicia!"

Her eyes widened as her teammate was marked by Roger.

She lost him with ease but as Alicia reached for it, nearly grasping it, Shannon lunged for the Quaffle. Sheila cursed under her breath. Harry, seeing the opportunity, detached himself from Sheila and extended his hand in the air for a pass. Not wasting time, Shannon flew first, evading Angelica along the way and tossing it accurately to Harry. Gripping the broom in one hand, his other grabbed the Quaffle. As it was in his palm, he kicked off his broom to top speed. In a great rush of excitement, Harry pumped his adrenaline and sped up to Wood. The fierce wind attacking him didn't affect his grasp on the Quaffle. Only one hand was steering the broom while the other was holding the Quaffle in the air.

Harry liked this, the ferocity of the wind, the feeling he underwent as the adrenaline rushed through his muscles.

He even smiled to the crowd as he passed the stands, causing the crowd to cheer loudly. The loudest cheer in Quidditch history resonated through the field. The crowd was in awe and admiration at the performance he had given them. He knew he was showing off, but he couldn't help it. He was in bliss of exhilaration, and no one can stop him. Sensing someone was on the verge of reaching out for the Quaffle, Harry, as fast as he could, brought down the Quaffle, hugging it firmly. Peeking over his shoulder, he was stunned to see Sheila struggling to steal the Quaffle. One hand was holding down her broom and the other was stretching out in the direction of the Quaffle, grasping the air for it.

"Sheila! Don't be stupid! Stop it! You can't control this speed with just one hand! It's too much for you or anyone else! The broom is at its limit, you'll lose control of it and crash down! Just give up!"

"Speak for yourself!" Sheila retorted.

Just as Harry predicted, Sheila's broom started to sway violently in another direction, plummeting to the ground. Sheila, with a panicked expression, hung onto the broom for dear life. She was clasping the broom so hard, pushing it to another direction again and again, but it was useless. The broom was persistent on crashing to the ground with remarkable speed. The crowd was horror-struck, most people were on their feet, eyes glued to Sheila. Yelping as the ground approached faster, she closed her eyes fearfully. Another hand grabbed onto her own and she opened her eyes to see Harry, trying to halt her broom.

Closing in to the ground, Harry roared - no way was he going to be defeated. He successfully slowed Sheila's broom and pointed it toward the sky. Sheila was safe. However, as a result, he didn't have time to save himself and he fell to the ground with alarming speed. "This is going to hurt..." He mumbled to himself, sealing his eyes tightly. His broom collided to the ground and he was hurled from the broom and flung across the Quidditch pitch. His body slumped down to the ground, laying flatly while his eyes were staring at the sky. The crowd winced at the drop.

"Harry!" Sheila commanded her broom to him, absolutely concerned for him. Descending from her broom, she hurtled to his side, kneeling down. Her face filled with dread as she affirmed his eyes were closing. "Harry! Hey, wake up! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I didn't listen to you! Wake up! I promise I won't do it again, I swear it!" She sobbed profusely, shaking his body.

"Yeah, you better." Seeing him staring at her with his usual half-lidded eyes, Sheila's face lit up. He groaned painfully and stirred himself into a sitting position. He grimaced when Sheila engulfed him with her fierce hug. "_Restituo meus somes..._"

"Did you say something, Harry?" Breaking the hug, Sheila stared at him inquisitively.

"Oh no, nothing..." Harry chirped, feeling his magic draining rapidly. His body restored back as if the collision hadn't occurred to him at all. He hadn't used any ancient spells today so it was safe to use one now. Every time he used those ancient spells, his magic drained, so he refrained from using them a lot unless it was necessary. Except the invisible thing, that didn't take much of his magic.

"Are you all right? I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, I'm fine," He nonchalantly soothed her, standing up. "It's okay, Sheila..."

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter! Are you all right?" Madam Hooch raced to him, hovering in the air on a broom, looking at them with those goggles she's always wearing.

Harry brushed all the dirt from his attire, staring dully at her. "Yes, I'm fine, ma' am. I'm one hundred percent alright."

"Are you sure, Harry? That was quite a fall."

"Absolutely. See, I can move around freely without cringing." Inspecting him more intimately, Madam Hooch nodded her head, validating his condition. She zoomed to where the staff was gathering to inform them of his state.

"You gave up the Quaffle for me?" Sheila questioned him, smiling. "Thank you, Harry..."

"I'm not too sure about that. Watch." Harry pointed his finger towards the goal stand. Sheila glanced at it. Wood was pretty occupied at the time, and was bewildered as to why both of their attentions were on him. That is, when he spotted a Quaffle out of nowhere, dropping down from the sky. He whisked his broom to protect the goal but was too late as it whooshed down through one of the hoops. "I calculated the angle before throwing it up above. No one noticed it because all of the attention was on you. I have to say that was pure luck."

Harry grinned as her face was burned red. Compressing her hands into tight fists, her eyes twitched in an annoying manner. Even though he saved her from that unfortunate accident, he still managed to score. That goal was counted since he released the Quaffle before went off to rescue her.

* * *

><p>"Harry, is it okay for you to move around?" Regine bustled over to him, concern plastered across her features.<p>

Daphne and Callista weren't far behind her, fussing over him as well. Sheila vanished off somewhere else, sulking off with his broom.

"Hey, hey, come on. Get off, off I say." Harry shrugged away their gestures tenderly, still in his Quidditch uniform. "For the hundredth time, I'm fine."

After the ceremony of bestowing the Ravenclaws another Quidditch cup, three girls sprinted to him in a flash. They continued to ask the same question over and over again. Harry even consented to allow them to check for injuries themselves, but being the bunch of unrelenting girls they were, they irritated Harry to no end. The Quidditch season was won by Ravenclaw as Jeffery caught the snitch a few minutes after the ill-fated incident. Professor Flitwick, with the largest grin ever, was ecstatic as soon as he received the cup from Madam Hooch. Jeffery had to lend the tiny Professor his aid in holding the cup in place as it swayed a bit when the Professor held it in the air.

"Potter!" Someone yelled out.

Harry shifted his awareness to the person. "Oh, captain, what's wrong?"

Jeffery was the only guy in Hogwarts aside from Professor Flitwick who Harry reserved respect for. He went as far as to call him captain every time he addressed him. Secretly, he looked up to the guy. Nonetheless, Harry never acknowledged it publicly, he kept it to himself. Jeffery was the only guy who socialized with Harry normally, without any hatred or petty envy in his eyes. He had given Harry pointers in becoming a good player in the last three years, as well.

Jogging to Harry, Jeffery smiled as he extended his hand. "Don't call me captain anymore, Potter. I'm done with school so the position will move onto someone else next year. Thank you for winning the cup. This is my last year, so I hope someday we'll meet again on the Quidditch field. I hope we'll get to play again on the same team too."

Politely nodding his head, Harry grasped Jeffery's hand and shook it firmly. "Perhaps Barkain. Time will tell us..."

"You'll take care of the team, right?"

"Sure, if you wish me to," Harry shrugged his shoulders casually. His eyes flashed mischievously and an idea materialized in his mind. "Does that mean I get to kick out Davies? That bastard is a pain in the arse..."

"Harry, please, your language!" Callista admonished behind him exasperatedly. "It's inappropriate."

Jeffery barked a laugh, clapping his hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's your decision, not mine. I have to admit, though, he is a bit prick. See you around, Potter. You're a great guy... Oh, and don't forget, there's a party tonight in the common room to celebrate our victory." Harry just bobbed his head, knitting his eyebrows together as he stared at the guy's retreating figure.

"Hey, um, girls? What does he mean by my decision next year?" he called out to them over his shoulder.

"Potter, sometimes you can be so hopeless…" Daphne flashed him one of her annoying smirks.

Harry huffed childishly at her.

"Oh, honestly, Harry, he meant you'll be the likely new captain of Ravenclaw's Quidditch team," Callista spoke softly.

"That's right, there's no one as skillful and suitable in piling the position, Harry..." Regine concurred. Harry pursed his lips, mulling over whether or not he was ready to shoulder the burden and abide to the responsibility.

"Harry..." a timid and cautious voice butted in. Harry spun around and looked in dread at the sight of his broom, broken to pieces in Sheila's hands. He extracted the remnants of his broom from her. The impact had affected the broom more than his life. Nibbling his bottom lip, he clenched his hands on the wood. This was one of the gifts he treasured most from the Greengrass adults. "I'm sorry... it's my fault..."

Looking up, he was met with a tearful Sheila, silently restraining her sobs. She looked guilty and devastated. Fortunately, only a few people remained in the Quidditch field. The three girls didn't know how to react. They knew how much the broom meant to Harry. Daphne didn't wish to yell at Sheila, considering what the girl was in for right now. Eyes slightly unfocused, Harry evoked the memory of what he saw in the Mirror of Erised. Reverting to reality, Harry smiled serenely. Uncharacteristically, he moved to Sheila, hugging her gently. They others were in shock, of course. Harry had never showed any affection toward them.

"It's okay," Harry placated, rubbing her stiff back. "It's just a broom. I'm just glad you're alright… I'll be sad if anything worse happens to you. It's fine, Sheila..."

The other girls smiled at his sincere tone while Sheila mumbled something incoherently, like it's her fault and she was stupid, sobbing non-stop. Removing himself from Sheila, he ruffled her short hair affectionately. He allowed the girls to comfort their friend since they were infinitely more experienced than him in that regard.

"Potter..." Daphne muttered, smiling a little. "I'm too arrogant to say that I'm proud of you so don't get any ideas."

Harry smirked, still holding his broken broom. "Never crossed my mind, Greengrass..."

"Callista and Regine will handle Sheila...There's someone who wants to see you right now."

"Oh, who?"

"Zip it and just follow me."

Harry heaved a sigh. "You enjoy ordering me around, don't you?"

"I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about," Daphne clarified, though her smirk didn't go unnoticed. Harry grumbled and, akin to a sick puppy, trailed behind his master. She brought him to the back of the Quidditch field, far away from prying eyes. There was a tall man, dressed in expensive robes, and wearing glasses. He smiled joyfully when he caught sight of them.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, it is a great pleasure to meet you! A great pleasure indeed! I was beginning to wonder if you would ever come!" the man gleefully declared, frantically grabbing Harry's hand and shaking it furiously.

"Uh... yes, the pleasure is mine," Harry confusedly, yet politely replied.

"Potter, meet Peter Gandalf, and Mr. Gandalf, meet Harry Potter," Daphne introduced them to each other.

The man jumped when he came face to face with Daphne. He instantly bowed his head. "My apologies, Lady Greengrass! I wasn't aware of your presence."

"Don't call me lady. The honor goes to my mother. I am still fifteen years old, Mr. Gandalf," Daphne growled, folding her arms.

"Yes, yes, quite sorry, Ms. Greengrass."

Harry nudged his head toward Daphne, then at the man, thoroughly perplexed. "I'm sorry to interrupt but can anyone tell me what is going on here?"

"Oh, Mr. Potter, glad you're still here! I thought you had run off!" Gandalf exclaimed merrily, his eyes glimmering in exultation. "You're flying is marvelous! Marvelous, indeed! That dive in the last minute was spectacular, and don't get me started on how you score points! It's brilliant! Amazing! Fabulous!"

Harry backed away and took shelter behind Daphne. By now, the guy was creeping Harry out. "Is he sane?" he whispered to Daphne's ears surreptitiously.

Daphne actually giggled, suppressing it with the back of her hand. "No, Potter. He's just excited, that's all."

Gandalf discontinued his sentences once he realized he was frightening the young fella. "My apologies, Mr. Potter! Truly, my apologies! I did not mean to scare you!"

Harry scowled, stepping in front of Daphne. "I wasn't scared." The snicker behind him caused his scowl to deepen.

"That's good! Very good! In playing Quidditch, you have to rid yourself of any fear in you and be willing to risk everything to win the game! And you're just the kind of fella we're searching for, Mr. Potter!"

"Huh?" Now Harry was beyond confused.

"Perhaps a proper introduction would be in order, Mr. Gandalf," Daphne appended.

"Yes, yes, quite right, Ms. Greengrass." The man straightened his robe. "Mr. Potter. My name is Peter Gandalf, and I work for Puddlemere United, as well as being a major supporter for the team, in charge of the teams financing and a scout, searching for talented players across the British Wizarding World."

Harry's jaw dropped. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he spoke seriously. "What do you want me for?"

The man's eyes twinkled, dancing happily on the spot. "You are a talented player, Mr. Potter. Puddlemere United extends its greeting by offering you an opportunity to play for Puddlemere."

"W-w-what!" Harry stammered, shocked. "I'm still in school, I can't quit Hogwarts and join Puddlemere just like that! And holy shit, did you say Puddlemere? As in Puddlemere United? The Puddlemere United? This must be a dream!"

Daphne burst into a fit of small chuckles. "Don't let Callista hear you swear, Potter."

The man laughed out loud. "Mr. Potter, the British and Irish Quidditch league is being organized this summer, from July second until August fourth. Every year it holds the same time. If you decide to join us, then there are still some processions you need to go through. For instance, by signing you to our team, you will play with us, but you'll still have a long way to go if you wish to play in the main team."

"Main team? I play as a chaser and from what I saw of Puddlemere United in one of their games, the chasers were brilliant. I don't understand why I'm getting this kind of offer out of the blue."

"Well, yes, it appears you have connections to the owner of Puddlemere United. By your luck, Mr. Potter, he recommended you to me. He's never actually suggested a player to me for recruitment before, so if he says so, then it must be worthwhile and it would seem he was right!"

"I'm sorry, the owner?"

"I think you're acquainted with the person quite well," Gandalf's brown eyes glanced at Daphne. "After all, from what I hear, you and his elder daughter are very close. His wife also cares a great deal for you and you've known the family for years now, am I wrong? My eyes just confirmed that vital piece of information."

Harry whipped his head, rotating his body to Daphne. "Y-y-your father? Lord Greengrass?"

Daphne nodded her head, her eyes full of apology. "Yes, father owns Puddlemere United. He expressed his sincere forgiveness that he didn't faithfully attend any of your games. In return, he proposes to you a chance to play for Puddlemere. He tricked you, Potter, so that you can join Puddlemere."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry cried out in exasperation.

"I just thought it would be a nice surprise-"

"Not that!" Harry disrupted her sentence. "The part about your father owning Puddlemere! I could've asked you for an autograph from their captain in my first year!"

Daphne's eyes twitched annoyingly. "Potter, it's just a fucking Quidditch!"

"I know, I only say that to annoy you..." Harry smirked. "It's payback." Then, his eyes glazed. "But damn. I know Lord Greengrass is powerful and very wealthy, but never in my life would I have imagined he owns Puddlemere…"

"You should have noticed by how often he discusses Quidditch with you. He's a Quidditch maniac, only mother doesn't enjoy it as much as he does. Just to keep him company in those games, she escorted him from time to time."

"Just like someone I know," Harry murmured.

"Damn straight," Daphne grumbled, grinning at him.

Gandalf cleared his throat stridently. "Shall we get on to business?"

"Yes, I'm underage," Harry briskly spouted out.

"That may be, Mr. Potter, but in Quidditch, it's a matter of talent, not age. Did you know there was once a player, aged sixteen and playing for the Tutshill Tornados in 1962?"

"I don't know how the procedure goes. You know the contract stuff, checking and all that."

"Yes, Lord Greengrass predicted you might say something like that. He told me that if you accept it then he'll coordinate everything for you."

"But my broom is a wreck, you saw it during the game."

"I'm sure we can arrange something..." Gandalf vaguely spoke.

"But my skills are not that good."

"Mr. Potter-" The man began in a frustrated sigh. "Everything will be taken care of, I assure you. We are merely asking you to join us, not throwing you in the real games right away. If you desire to play in the upcoming league, you have to earn your spot. If that is so, you still need to earn a spot as a reserve player then move onto the main players. Trust me, players take years before becoming one of the main players. If you sign in, you'll only be given training during the summer and the trainers will be the judge of whether or not you are skillful enough to advance."

Harry dwelled on this, hesitant. "If I'm only given training in the summer, then after summer I can return back to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, it's very hard for a player to get hold of the position of reserve players, let alone becoming a main player. Put it this way, Mr. Potter. By training you, we are preparing you and at the same time increasing your skills in Quidditch."

"Potter, I think this is your chance to repay my parents..." Daphne asserted. "If you rise up, you'll make my father proud. Don't you want that? You never fail to remind me that you desperately desire to repay my parents so what are you waiting for? This is your chance, you'll start small."

Hearing that, Harry's face became grave, which scared the man a little. "I'll take it. If it is only training then I can deal with it. I won't have high hopes in becoming one of the main chasers but it's a start. What do I have to do?"

"Splendid!" The man's serious expression became jovial. "Not to worry, the contract is in Lord Greengrass's possession. What you need to do is meet him, which you eventually will, sign the contract and let him deal with the rest." Gandalf shook Harry's hand one last time rather excitedly. "Mr. Potter, if it were based on my opinion of you, I'd say you'll be one of the best players the Wizarding world has ever seen! I give you two weeks of training with us and I guarantee you'll have a position in the reserve players. If the coach takes you for granted, he'll let you play in the real match! This is where I depart, Mr. Potter. I am eager to witness you climb to fame and bring Puddlemere to the top. Someday, people will know your name."

"Does he have a second personality or something?" Harry enquired as the man apparated from the school grounds.

"I'm beginning to wonder that myself, Potter." Eyeing him, she wrinkled her nose cutely. "Get your bloody arse to the shower room and clean yourself. Now, Potter."

Harry grumbled, marching in the direction of the locker room. "Yeah, she enjoys ordering me around."

"For the second time of the day, Potter, I haven't got the faintest idea what you're talking about..." Daphne smirked, trailing behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>8 June 1992.<strong>

Today was when the feast was to commence. In the Great Hall, it was festooned in Ravenclaw's fashion to celebrate their winning the house cup for the sixth year in a row. It was crammed with students voicing their endless conversations loudly. Harry was no different arguing with Callista over some minor things in their customary banter. She split up with her best friends to find Harry. Of course, as usual, she caught him flirting on some fifth year Hufflepuffs just then. It annoyed her to no end. Pulling him by the ear, she hauled him from the girls and to the Great Hall, saving the girls' faces from blushing profusely.

He protested all the way about it, justifying how embarrassing and painful it was. He didn't waste time to quarrel with her after they took their seat. Nevertheless, when Harry's little brother stepped in the great Hall, all hushed. Daniel bustled his way to his friends, slipping into a seat between them. The Great Hall was once again filled with voices and people standing up to look at him. Harry snorted, thinking how pitiful they were. One day they hated him and the next, they admired him. Perhaps people are truthfully as stupid as he suspected, letting fame get to their heads. Callista provided him comfort, smiling softly at him. He returned the gesture back, smiling a little.

Fortuitously, the gibberish dwindled away when Dumbledore arrive moments later. Harry plopped his head on one hand, a bored expression on his face. He felt his world was slowly descending to darkness. In a word, he was on the brink of sleeping. Only when Callista pinched him under the table did he fully awake. He glared at the pretty girl next to him. In response, she smiled in gullible manner. The part where the headmaster mentioned the house cup grabbed everyone's attention.

"Now, as you are aware, the house cup needs awarding. We have in fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and fifteen points; in third place, Hufflepuff, three hundred and fifty-two points; in second place, Slytherin, four hundred and eighty-five points and in the first place, we have Ravenclaw, five hundred and fifteen points!"

What the staff of other houses expected was a storm of cheering to break out at the Ravenclaw's table, not claps full of politeness and sarcasm. Professor Flitwick was bewildered that his house wasn't cheering like every other year. He wasn't the only one. That night, he had convinced his housemates that the headmaster would pull something out of his sleeve. It took him a full hour to persuade them that they wouldn't win the house cup. With the recent events, the headmaster would likely bestow the trio points.

Alone, he was hopeless to influence all of them, seeing how the males of the house envied him, but with the assistance of Callista and the former captain, it worked out brilliantly. So as to not embarrass them, Harry suggested they just clap their hands politely and not act barbaric. He added that he didn't want to sullen the house name which drove everyone to believe his words more. Of course, that was just a ploy but still, he didn't wish to humiliate the house's reputation.

"Yes, congratulations to Ravenclaws." Dumbledore waited for the cheering, but there was none. "Yes... recent events must be taken into account."

Flitwick now knew what his house was getting at in an instant. He was torn between anger for the headmaster and pride for his house's brilliance.

Most Ravenclaws nodded their head in gratitude to Harry. "I award sixty points to Mr. Weasley for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in my years." There was Percy the perfect err... Prefect, bragging about his brother.

Simply, half of the occupants cheered for this as now the Slytherins comprehended where this was leading to. "Next, I award sixty points to Ms. Granger for the use of cool logic in the face of fire."

The Hufflepuffs unsurely clapped their hands as the Gryffindors cheered. "To Mr. Potter...the younger Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award him seventy points."

Now, most of the students were getting suspicious as the points were tied between the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. "Lastly, to Mr. Longbottom, I hereby award him ten points for his bravery. There are all kinds of courage-"

After that, his speech was tuned out by most students as they now knew the headmaster was favoring Gryffindors, especially his Golden boy. Harry procured a grin of success. No offence to Dumbledore, but he's clearly favoring his brother and Harry can't let the headmaster's personal feelings get in the way of winning the house cup. At the Slytherin table, Daphne grinned at him and winked at his plan. At the Hufflepuff table, Regine was chuckling quietly to herself at Harry's success. At Gryffindor, Sheila shook her head in revulsion as her housemates exploded with cheers. She grinned in her seat when she caught Harry's gaze, giving him a thumbs up.

"So it's accomplished?" Callista whispered, smiling roguishly.

"Oh no, not yet. There's the finale."

"Really, what?" It's not frequent Callista was eager to break rules and disrespect Professors.

"Just wait and see..." Harry's eyes gleamed gleefully.

Harry waited tolerantly. The three houses weren't clapping anymore, half of the Hufflepuffs still were, however. The cheers erupting from the Gryffindors table was so strident. As Dumbledore clapped his hands together and the hanging of the Ravenclaws changed, Harry straightened his back. Taking out his wand while all of the attention was on the Gryffindors, Harry cast some charm in the direction of one of the Weasley pranks. They were hidden from prying eyes, placed in a notice-me-not charm but Harry detected it. He was using a wand because Callista was watching him closely.

He cast a charm to it more seeing that whatever the prank was about to burst uncontrollably from its place. He charmed it to explode in a dangerous way and the fire to strike the students in a creative way without hurting them. Harry prepared himself, concealing his wand under his sleeve. No offense to the twins, as much as they amused Harry, he required this part as his final plan. All of the sudden, there were shrieks from the first years combined with an explosion of fire. Harry's eyes widened, this was a bit too much. Whatever prank the Weasley twins set up was entirely lethal.

Before anyone could react, Harry smoothly sprinted to the Hufflepuff table as the fire was aiming there. He abandoned his plan as he went off to rescue the students. Whisking his wand, he erected a shield of his own. "_Protego!_" The large fire flatly pressed his shield but most of it bounded to another direction. There were shrieks of fear. The fire he was restraining had lessened, and so he risked himself as he cancelled his shield, allowing the fire to slaughter him. But before the fire could touch him, he cast "_Aguamenti!_" in the direction of the other fire that was wild, protecting the Hufflepuffs and a few of the Ravenclaws. As a result of water and fire blending, there were steams surrounding the Great Hall, turning it to fog.

The Professors were on their feet, exterminating the steam that was blinding everyone's sights. There was still screaming and screeching from the students. As the steam gradually ebbed away, there were still remnants of fire on Harry's robe. Though Harry's robe was on the ground while the person was nowhere to be seen. As the steam fully disappeared, there, in the middle of the Hufflepuff table, Harry Potter was shielding two Hufflepuff first years. He sighed in relief, lucky to have evaded the fire in time and used his robe as its prey. Perhaps he ought to reconsider his plans next time. That was reckless, even more reckless than the Gryffindors.

Feeling guilty, he moved his interest to two of the first years that he was sheltering from the fire. "Are you both okay?" He was even strong enough to carry them from their seats. Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott nodded their heads frenetically, blushing copiously as they realized the position they were in, completely forgetting the incident a moment ago. It was as if he was hugging them and he had very strong muscles.

The four house heads and the headmaster rushed to them while the other staff members were attempting to calm the students. "Harry, Harry! Are you alright?" Flitwick fussed over his favorite student, glancing every angle of him with amazing speed.

The room by now had gone silent, their attention now on Harry. Harry tittered nervously. "Yes, Professor but I think these two are quite shaken up. Professor Sprout if you would...?" He handed both first years to their house head. Even though they were taken away by Sprout, their eyes locked onto Harry. He laughed uneasily at their eyes, scratching the back of his head.

"Mr. Potter, are you certain you're alright?" McGonagall questioned, worried as well. "Madam Pomfrey should take a look at you."

Harry waved both of his hands. "No, no, I'm truly alright." He smiled reassuringly.

"Mr. Potter, I agree with Professor McGonagall and I insist!" Pomfrey appeared out of nowhere at his left side. "First, you refuse to go to the infirmary after that awful crash you had and now you refuse again after getting attacked by fire! Honestly, Mr. Potter, this is for your own good!"

"No, Madam Pomfrey, I truly am fine. I used my robe and threw it over the fire, allowing it to slaughter my robe instead of me." Madam Pomfrey, still unsatisfied, cast a diagnosis charm on Harry. She grumbled when there wasn't the slightest damage on his body. Here, she thought she could drag the boy to the infirmary and run a full check on his body with her hands intimately. Curse her luck!

"It would seem, Potter, you are fast to react. Pray tell, how is it you could possibly move so quickly to defend the students?" Snape glared at the boy. "It's as if you knew the attack was coming this whole time. I have suspicions that you set this up, Potter! In accordance to your rescue, you can boast your heroics by doing so!"

"Professor Snape if I were to do that, I could execute much more than this, with more of flair and theatrics, after all I am James Potter's son. But this was no ordinary set up, as you can see it was an accident." Harry hated saying who his father was but he had no choice. Snape bristled at this. His hatred for the boy intensified and he was fuming in rage.

"Well done, Harry. For you to act so quickly, not only did you save a few students but you saved us all," Dumbledore said, smiling. His eyes were twinkling. "That remarkable bravery is something a Gryffindor could envy of you."

"Thank you, Professor." Harry countered it with the same cheerfulness as Dumbledore was.

"Yes, well, a brilliant job, Harry..." Dumbledore chirped, his eyes twinkling full blast.

"I think Mr. Potter deserve points!" Professor Sinistra shouted out from the staff table where she sat on her seat calmly, smirking. "Don't you all agree?"

"I agree!" Professor Sprout declared, appearing beside McGonagall. "Risking his life for the safety of my house when he doesn't even belong to Hufflepuff at all! That is not something I would let slip away! Don't you agree, Minerva?"

"Yes, Professor Sprout is right," McGonagall announced without any hesitation. The Gryffindor table was agitated to hear this from their own house head!

"Professor, I don't think-" Harry halted his sentence as she wasn't listening to him.

"Modest to the very end... I could've sworn he'd be in Gryffindor," McGonagall muttered to herself, loudly enough for people near her to hear. "And that bravery and rashness... Oh, Gryffindor indeed..."

"Minerva! For the last time, he's in my house! Just give up already!" Flitwick roared.

"Oh, hush Flitwick!" McGonagall cleared her throat, reverting to her professional manner. "Now as I was saying-"

"Minerva, I don't think it would be wise to award points at this time of hour," Dumbledore reasoned, cutting McGonagall off. "As we all are aware that Professors are not allowed to take points and award them at the end of the feast. As none of you ever took the duty to award points concerning the recent events, I took the liberty myself using my position of the headmaster."

The Gryffindors cheered slightly at this. Though it died away when McGonagall smirked. "Very well, then! Due to my position as the deputy headmistress, which I have an obligation to fulfill, I cannot allow this to go away. And so, I award eighty points to Harry Potter for his quick thinking, handling the situation excellently, the use of a seventh year spell, his modesty, bravery and his successful attempts to save the students when the staff failed to do so!"

There was silence and all eyes were on the giant hourglass. The silence was eerie. As the Ravenclaws rushed to the lead, three houses erupted with cheer. The noise was deafening, so loud that it seemed it could reach to Hogsmeade! Ravenclaw could celebrate now, not caring about their house reputation any longer. They had now won the house cup for the sixth time in a row and fourth, it was all thanks to their star. The Hufflepuffs sounded the second biggest cheer as Harry had risked his life to save them and applied his own body to cover two of their housemates from the fire.

Slytherins rooted for Harry at this as well. They didn't mind as long as Gryffindor didn't get the cup. Those who were true Slytherins -unlike the Malfoys and their goons- discerned Harry's intention and gave him respect as he was without a doubt ambitious and very sly. Most upper years from Slytherin stood up from their seats and clapped their hands, advocating Harry. The Gryffindor table was a mix of expressions. Those who were too intent on acquiring the house cup were dead-struck. A quarter of the Gryffindors, run by Sheila, applauded for Harry.

"HARRY! HARRY! HARRY!" There were people yelling eagerly, and before anyone knew it, they were chanting Harry's name. The biggest table of fans was Ravenclaw. Many and if not most people banged their goblets on the table. Harry, not having foreseen this, felt the blush rising up his neck. There were squeals from the girls at how cute he was, mixed with people chanting his name. Never had they witnessed Harry blush in their entire time at Hogwarts. They supposed even Harry Potter does have the grace to be out of character and have feelings.

Snape was forcing a horrible smile and Dumbledore was speechless, thunderstruck. How was he suppose to deny this? He shook his head, smiling a little and he clapped his hands, joining the crowds. He supposed he's to be blame. Harry had just manipulated the Professor into awarding him points. Very cunning, indeed. The smile on his face grew more. The elder Potter had just beaten him in his own game.

"I believe a change of decorations is in place!" McGonagall smiled widely. She didn't mind that her house could not obtain the house cup anymore. Her voice was drowned out by the students still chanting Harry's name. "Professor Flitwick, I think the honor goes to you."

"My pleasure, Professor McGonagall!" Flitwick giddily took his wand out. Swishing it up and down, the banner altered back to Ravenclaw. This time the noise increased more as the storm of applause around them was joined by the staff. It was thunderous. Harry, still blushing, deduced that life is full of surprises.

You never know what life brings you...

* * *

><p><strong>14 June 1992.<strong>

"Is Rosy asleep?" questioned James. Lily nodded her head absently. She played with her food, ignoring the majority of her husband's words. They were having dinner by themselves, a rare occurrence in their household. James sighed deeply, placing his hand on his wife's arm and squeezing it tenderly. "Lily, I'm really worried about you. You haven't been acting yourself lately. Is there something wrong? ...Did I do something? Tell me if I did."

Lily smiled slightly, returning his gesture affectionately. "No, it's not you James. It's me... I did something terrible to someone and now I desperately want to make it up to them… to him…"

James furrowed his eyebrow in repulsion. "Don't tell me it's Snape?"

Lily laughed heartily at this. "Oh, James, how many times do I have to tell you? You hold the key to my heart, not anyone else. I can't believe you're still jealous of any males approaching me! It's not that. Severus has been far from my mind, actually..."

"Then what is it?" he whispered kindly.

"I think you should realize it yourself, like I did," she murmured. Looking up at his mystify face, she shook her head. "It's nothing, love. Let's just go to bed early. But first, I need to clean the dishes. Can you clean the broom cupboard for me? Just arrange those brooms properly. I didn't have time to work on it."

"Sure. Anything you want, my flower," James stood up and immediately hopped to it, always the model husband.

"Without a wand, James!" Lily shouted from the table, picking up the plates all the while.

James had to whine at that, "But it will take too much time!" He heard Lily chuckle slightly and he grinned at the small success.

Sauntering to the storage room, he opened the door and found the brooms scrappily sprawling across the floor, causing him to grumble in annoyance. Yeah, this was going to take a while. There were maybe a dozen brooms or more in there. Whenever people gathered at the mansion, they held a Quidditch game of their own for entertainment in the mansion's field. Every broom they used was a Nimbus 2000. James gathered every broom older than the Nimbus 2000, throwing the worn ones away. This would take a long time, indeed.

He sighed loudly and entered the room to assemble each broom in its proper place. Dust flew out of the storage room as grumbles, curses, and sneezes disrupted the relative quiet of the dark space. Minutes passed, until finally James exhaled loudly in exhaustion as he placed the final brooms in an orderly row. He grinned, feeling proud of himself. He was never comfortable doing things the Muggle way. Nevertheless, many years with Lily had forced him to. Oh, he was still complaining about how troublesome it was.

James was about to exit when something inside obstructed his exit. Twirling around slowly, he squinted his eyes, rubbing his glasses to get a better view. The deeper he ventured, the darker the room grew. As he fumbled to the back of the storage room, he was surprised to find another broom, small enough for a five to seven year old to ride on. The broom was enveloped by heavy dust and entangled in a silky spider web. Picking it up, James brought the old broom outside to get a better view. He brushed all the soot off the broom on his way out, coughing in the process.

He was shocked to find a Cleansweep One. He thought he'd tossed all of the older brooms. Pondering the appearance of this strange broom, a crease in his forehead, he recalled that he had never purchased a Cleansweep One. In any case, this one was too small for him or any other person to ride on. Perhaps Rosy might fit, but Lily would kill him before she allowed that to happen. Lily had made it abundantly clear that she didn't want her baby riding a broom until she was old enough. So why? Why did he buy this broom? More importantly, for whom? There was something nagging at the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it.

_**A strange abnormal sound of bell-like echoed...**_

* * *

><p><strong>31 July 1979.<strong>

In the Potter mansion, three occupants celebrated someone's birthday. Though it was a time of war and fear across the British Wizarding World, it didn't hinder two adults from celebrating their son's birthday. Harry was enthusiastic about his birthday, so they prepared this celebration mainly for him, savoring their family moments while they lasted. As expected from Harry, he became even more excited when Lily made him a chocolate cake, grinning widely.

Lily rolled her eyes, smiling at her son as he grinned at the large chocolate cake on the table, clapping his hands cheerfully. Both adults smiled knowingly as they watched their son light up in happiness. They were baffled as to how he cheered so easily, but his smile shrugged off their worries concerning the war going on around them. Harry never did mind having just his parents to celebrate his birthday with. As long as they were there, he was fine. Wide eyes, Lily leapt to her feet as her son stood up on the chair and prepared to jump on the cake. Catching his small body just in time, she held her son firmly in his seat, chiding him softly.

He pouted and crossed his arms over his chest, showing immense dissatisfaction. Shaking her head, she brought him to her lap, partly to keep an eye on him and partly because she enjoyed hugging his warm body closed to hers. Harry pouted more cutely at this, huffing in his mommy's lap. James grinned at his son, his thoughts far away from the war, solely concentrating on his son. He ruffled his son's hair and exclaimed that they were going to cut the cake. At that, Harry was no longer mad at his mommy and he cheered his father on. It made both parents smile for the second time that day at his typical mood swings. They shook their heads, feeling both overwhelmed and amazed at their son.

After the birthday party, which lasted twenty minutes, James cradled Harry in his arms, telling Lily he'd spend time with his son while she washed the dishes. Lily accepted this and advised James that for his own sake, he'd better hope no harm come to her baby. Swallowing audibly, James chuckled nervously. He watched his wife carefully to confirm she was busy with something else. As soon as she was, he carried his son outside, to the back of the mansion.

"Harry, Daddy has a present for you," James whispered.

"Really? Another present for Harry! Yay!" James clamped his hand gently over his son's mouth, peering nervously around them. He feared his wife may appear suddenly out of nowhere. "Yes, but Harry needs to keep quiet, okay?"

"Why?" Harry was all innocence, still a naïve three-year-old boy.

"Um..." James was clueless as to what reason should he give the boy. Harry had Lily's brain, so it wouldn't be easy to fool him, even at his very young age. "Harry, just be quiet, okay? Harry doesn't want to upset daddy, right?"

Harry nodded his head rapidly. Placing Harry gently on the ground, James whipped his wand out. On his toes, he checked for his wife, but she was nowhere in sight. He summoned Harry's present. Grinning, he handed the package to Harry. Eyes glittered in curiosity and glee, Harry tore the package open at once and stared in awe at the broom in his small, delicate hands.

"Do you know what this is, Harry?" James asked gently, kneeling down to his son's height.

"Harry knows! This is a Cleansweep One! First broom built for racing in 1926! Harry read it in one of his books!" James's mouth hung open in admiration, forgetting that his son was producing plenty of noises.

"James! What's all that racket! Did I hear a broom just then?" Rising up, James quickly began to pace, panic written all over his face. Lily materialized all of a sudden in front of him, wiping her wet hands on an apron. "James, what's that all about?" Her tone was low and vicious.

James felt a surge of denial course through his body as he waved both of his hands defensively. "N-nothing, Lily flower, nothing at all!"

"Then where is my son?" Lily asked in a low voice, glaring her husband.

"He was right here!" He pointed to his side.

Lily looked all around them. "Where, James!" He glanced to his side and his son was nowhere.

"Mommy! Daddy!" They followed the voice and were shocked to see their son grinning and waving giddily at them with one hand. That wasn't what alarmed them. It was the fact that he was on a broom, soaring from such great height. He was three years old, for Merlin's sake!

"James Potter, get my son down from there this instant!" Lily shrieked, terror plastered across her face.

Before James could answer, Harry whooshed down to them, flying circles around the two and giggling all the while. James didn't know how to react. His son was a natural flier. Harry then greeted his mommy cheerfully, facing her as he flew upside-down. Lily broke from her shock, instantly grabbed her son and hugged him tightly, fretting over him. The broom dropped to the ground yet Harry was still giggling in exhilaration, wanting more of it. James assumed he'd get in trouble with his wife later, but for now he didn't care. A large grin spread over his face and he knew it had been worth it. His brilliant son was a natural flier.

* * *

><p><strong>14 June 1992.<strong>

Reverting back to reality, James's sight blurred, and not from his glasses. No, it was the heavy tears forming in both of his eyes. They trickled down his cheeks, unstoppable no matter how hard he tried to dry them. His hands clenched the broom, gripping it tightly. Oh, Merlin, how could he forget Harry? What kind of father was he? Had fame gotten to his head more than he realized?

He had believed he'd discarded that arrogance of his a long time ago, but evidently he was wrong. It was sickening. And this was the consequence of his arrogance, his own pride and joy no longer associated with him. He was disgusted with himself at that moment. Why hadn't he realized it, all this time? By now, he was chocking back sobs, crying silently on the floor as he dropped his knees to the ground. Damn, had he really forgotten Harry?

A pair of arms wrapped around him, embracing him lovingly from behind. James ignored the touch as he continued to cry quietly. He knew without looking that it was Lily.

"What have we done, James? What have we done to Harry?" she murmured, tears dripping down from her own emerald eyes.

"I don't know... I really don't…" he mumbled thickly, removing his glasses to wipe these tears that insisted on falling.

_**The strange abnormal sound of bell-like chimed one last time...**_


	9. Chapter 8, Season 2

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter.

**Summary: **If Harry's baby brother, Daniel, is the Boy-Who-lived, then what of Harry? What is his role? Is he destined for greater? Or, is he to play a much bigger role in the future? Followed Canon's plot, with much bigger AU's plot as the story progresses further. Harry will be a different person and his nemesis will not be Voldemort. He is three years older than in the canon's, older brother to the Boy-Who-lived. There will be also a major twist in the canon's plot.

* * *

><p><strong>...~[]oOo[]~...<strong>

**Harry Potter, Rise From Dust. (Season 2)**

**...~[]oOo[]~...**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 8.<strong>

**20 June 1992.**

Harry exited the train in regular Muggle clothes, accompanied by his usual four companions. They stood in King's Cross station, preparing themselves for another summer. Harry wasn't sure how much he was looking forward to another summer in the Potter mansion, but if what that strange Gandalf guy said was true, then he could spend most of his time playing Quidditch. He wondered if he should visit Merlin, as the old man had informed Harry that there would be no training this year.

"See you around, Potter!" called a voice Harry did not recognize.

"Yeah, see you, Harry!"

"I'll see you next year, Harry!"

"Bye, Harry!"

He had been getting these frequent farewells once he exited the compartment. Various students had rushed over to say goodbye to him. Even the Li sisters and Clearwater had the audacity to bid him adieu. It was all Su Li, her face encompassed in red, could do to splutter a goodbye, wishing him well as she garbled. The funniest of all, however, was Barbara's sister, Blaise. She came, towed by her older sister, to say a rather shy goodbye to Harry. It took a lot of courage from her, as up until now she had merely been throwing Harry shy glances.

Though, it was so very Gryffindor of her to trip herself clumsily and coincidentally fell into Harry's arms. Not one to waste an opportunity, she was even so bold as to peck Harry's cheek, causing Barbara to curse her sister's luck, muttering unintelligibly about the sheer number of failed attempts to do so on her own part. Of course, Harry's four companions didn't find this to be amusing. Once it was Barbara's turn, the girl was barely able to say goodbye with a pretty blush, no chance of touching him in any intimate way, as the looks from Harry's four companions were aimed to kill.

"I never would have guessed you'd be this famous after the feast, Harry." Sheila grinned at his side.

"It can't be helped, Sheila. Harry has this kind of thing that attracts both people and attention." Callista tendered the perky girl a soft smile.

"I second that thought," Regine consented, unwrapping some chocolate and popping it in her mouth. Flapping its wings speedily, her red owl hooted in agreement, perched on Regine's head.

"Potter deserves it. It's who he is," Daphne commented absentmindedly. Lazily moving her eyes to Regine's owl, she glared daggers at the thing. "Regine, get that filthy beast off your head. Who knows what kinds of diseases it carries? And, it's messing up your hair too."

The red owl howled crossly, flailing its wings even more as it flew off Regine's head and into the air.

"Hey! Don't be cruel to her, Daph, and she was not!" Regine allowed the owl to settle comfortably in her arms. She stroked the owl's feathers to pacify it. "Don't worry, girl, she didn't mean it." The owl hooted indignantly, glowering at Daphne. Never fancy the idea of backing down, Daphne shot it with more of deadly result. Hooting timidly, it recoiled from her glare. "Stop it, Daphne, you're scaring her!"

A smirk tugged at the corner of Daphne's lips. Who did that owl think she was? No one could compete with her glare.

Sheila laughed at this. "You can always depend on Daphne to fright everything away with her intimidating looks." Sheila paused in contemplation as a thought trespassed her mind. "Hey, Daph. Did you take facial lessons or something?" Daphne glared furiously, envisioning Sheila to vaporize on the spot. "Yep, definitely lessons… Hey, can I join that class of yours? I need to look mean too!" Sheila grinned teasingly, triumphant with her small victory.

Callista and Regine giggled freely at their friends' interactions, while the owl croaked in what appeared to be laughter. Harry, on the other hand, just smiled in contentment. Yeah, there was no way he could refute the Mirror of Erised. This was what he wanted most, for the girls to not forsake him. Although more mature now, he was still not strong enough to endure the loneliness again. If someone were to ask what he wished for, in his wildest dreams, he would simply tell them that he already held it in the palm of his hand.

"Harry..." Callista touched his arm gently, fracturing his daydream. He looked up to find several pairs of concerned eyes focused on him. He shook his head, indicating that it was nothing. No words were needed and they smiled dazzlingly at him. Callista's reserve shattered the moment she blinked her eyes past Harry's shoulder. "Mum, Dad!" she squeaked uneasily.

"Callista!" Diana Campbell scuttled over to her daughter and enveloped her daughter in a warm embrace, ditching her husband and the rest of the Greengrass family without a moment's hesitation. Harry instinctively distanced himself from them, intent on giving them some space.

Callista pushed her mother away gently. "Mum, what are you doing here? How did you even get here in the first place?" Callista was in a panic.

"We ran into William and Elizabeth outside the platform. They assisted us."

"Really? I thought the portal would prevent Muggles from entering," Callista asked in confusion.

"William explained to us that the portal simply serves as an illusion to people...or Muggles, as you put it. And, young lady, you're mumbling to yourself again…" Callista laughed nervously, remembering how her mother disapproved of dubbing non-magical people 'Muggles.' "As I was saying, it's merely an illusion. It doesn't prevent people with no magical core from entering, as long as you have magical people at your side, that is."

"That explains it all."

Diana transferred her attention from her daughter to her friend. "Harry, it's so good to see you again," she greeted him warmly.

"A pleasure to see you as well, Mrs. Campbell…" Harry returned with a stiff smile.

"Didn't I tell you to call me by my given name?"

"With Harry, it's pointless. He'll persist on being polite," a new voice cut in. "Didn't I warn you, Diana?"

"Yes," Diana laughed merrily. "Yes, you did."

Cheeks reddening, Harry turned his head to greet the new person. "Lady Greengrass."

"No matter how many times I ask you, you're still going to insist on being polite with us, aren't you, Harry?" the woman said in exasperation. Harry jumped a little at that, stuttering unintelligently. Elizabeth merely smiled at the boy she considered to be one of her own. She hugged him in a warm, loving style, similar to the way a mother embraces her children.

"Mother, it would seem you have entirely forgotten your own daughter...again..."

Breaking the hug hastily, she rushed to Daphne, who was clearly displeased. "Hello, Daphne, welcome back." Lady Greengrass emitted a few anxious giggles. Winking at Harry, Daphne stepped forward to hug her mother tightly, an act Elizabeth eagerly returned.

Scrutinizing Callista and Daphne, he sighed mutely, the child inside of him longing to be greeted by his own parents. Sheila quietly excused herself, leaving Harry with her trunks and the knowledge that she was searching for her parents. For some reason, Regine was adamant in staying with him, insisting that she could look for her family later on. Harry recognized this to be her Hufflepuff trait. A soft hand intertwined with his, and he looked to his side to stumble on Regine's smiling face.

"Hey, we won't leave you. You know that. They won't and I won't." Her owl once again perched on her left shoulder.

Harry smiled slightly, squeezing her hand. "I know, Regine." Despite her long hours spent in the greenhouse, her hands were always soft.

Someone called out Regine's name and she smiled at the familiar voices. Her twin brothers were waving their hands excitedly and grinning with identical boyish smiles. Regine unconsciously released Harry's hand, running to greet her family. Her owl pursued her in the air. Harry heaved a silent sigh, smiling sadly to himself. He couldn't blame them for that. How could he? A hand on his shoulder caused him to swing his body around, transforming the sad smile into a bright, albeit fake one for the stranger.

"Lord Greengrass."

"It's nice to see you, lad," the man chuckled.

Harry caught sight of Callista's father, David Campbell, eagerly greeting his daughter. Harry side-glanced and saw Astoria tackling her sister with such childish eagerness, Daphne smiling and hugging her all the while. "Good to see you as well, sir," Harry courteously answered.

"Harry, I do hope you forgive me for deceiving you. It's not something I took pleasure in doing."

"On, no, sir! It's fine! In fact, I should be thanking you, Lord Greengrass. You've given me a reason to step forward, and stop looking into the past… For that, I'm grateful… I truly am." Glancing back at the girls, he picked up Sheila and Regine's families participating in a big reunion. A genuine smile coiled across Harry's lips as his eyes landed on all four girls.

"I still have my promise to keep, Harry."

Curiosity swelled inside Harry as he gazed at the man.

"If you find yourself playing in one of the major matches in the upcoming Quidditch games of the British and Irish league... this time I'll be sure to come to those matches. That, I can promise you." William winked at the young lad in front of him. Harry snorted in amusement, shaking his head at what he had gotten himself into. Now he knew where Daphne got her shrewdness from. "Welcome home, lad..."

Harry's smile widened as he shook the great man's hand.

* * *

><p>"You're inviting all of them to dinner, mother?" Daphne inquired slowly. "You mean the Campbells, Barberis and the Jonnets?"<p>

Harry and Lord Greengrass were deep in discussion while the others were having a chat of their own. Astoria set off to talk with Noah, Regine's nine-year-old brother, who was the same age as Astoria. The boy was silent as a rock, but it looked as if he was doing his very best to be a companion to Astoria, albeit with tints of red marking his cheeks. Harry had a strange feeling tingling inside of him concerning what was going on with that small boy at the moment.

"Yes, of course! Isn't it marvelous to have dinner with your friends? It's simply delightful!" Elizabeth gushed, nearly floating away with enthusiasm. "Don't you agree, William?"

Coughing violently, William composed himself and sent his lovely wife an alluring smile, willing for her not to be angry at him. "Yes, marvelous, sweetheart..." And he really wasn't bothered by it. The more, the merrier. The mansion required large amounts of people in order to remain lively. It was much too forlorn and dark for his tastes.

"Yes, it is marvelous," Daphne consented, smiling slightly at the thought of spending even more time with her best friends.

Elizabeth beamed. "Harry, you'll be coming too, yes?"

"Of course. Without Potter, it's incomplete," Daphne scowled, intersecting both arms over her chest. "You are coming, right, Potter?"

"Yes, I am. It doesn't feel right to go home and not have a proper dinner with all of you after another year at Hogwarts. By now, I'm accustomed to it." The Greengrass family smiled at his positive reply.

"Well, let us all leave then and postpone the conversations until dinner," William proposed as he and his wife went off to inform the adults of their departure.

Daphne gestured her head after them. "What are we waiting for? Might as well go with them."

Bobbing his head in agreement, Harry seized the handle of his trunk and tagged along after the group. His tracks were halted when someone clutched at his free arm, compelling his body to stiffen in alarm. Only one or two people could make him feel like this. He rotated his head and repressed his emotions slowly. There, standing in front of him, were his parents. Lily held his arm tightly, refusing to let him free. James stood behind her. Both bore a smile on their face, prompting Harry to conceal his deep frown somewhat successfully.

"We've been looking for you, Harry," Lily said, annihilating the awkward silence between the three. "We were getting worried, so we went searching for you."

Worried? Since when did she every worry about him? As far as he was concerned, none of them particularly paid any attention to him.

"Here, let me get your trunk for you and welcome you home. It's no fun not being able to use magic outside Hogwarts' walls, huh?" James commented cheerily, grinning at him. "Come on, let's not keep everyone waiting for us. We have to celebrate you and Daniel's return from Hogwarts. The Weasley's, Sirius, and Remus are up ahead waiting for us with your brother and sister."

Now, Harry was terribly confused. Was this some kind of freak show that Muggles usually put up with? He couldn't even remember the last time he had conversed with them in a friendly manner. And now, they acted as if he had been getting along with them all this time. He watched as James snatched his trunk handle from him and Lily tugged his arm in the direction of the red heads. He was so shocked trying to comprehend all of this that he didn't even had the chance to provide an answer for either of them. Fortunately, Daphne came to his rescue, furiously grabbing his arm and stopping the three of them.

"I'm very sorry to say this, but Harry has been invited to have dinner with our family. He won't be joining you after all. Perhaps, another year." Her tone was dripping with sarcasm, eyes glinting maliciously. Mere moments ago, she had told her parents that she'd handle this herself.

Lily bit her lips, not forgetting this girl at all. "Yes, but he'll be declining the offer now. I believe it's best for Harry to spend time with his family, though thank you for your offer." She was just as stubborn as Daphne.

"That's not for you to answer. Harry responded to us rather positively earlier on," Daphne hissed, gripping Harry's arm. "He'll be the judge of that."

"Ms. Greengrass, is it?" James intercepted, adjusting his glasses in irritation. Lily had notified him earlier of this young girl and their son's other companions. Harry's group, suffice to say, was unusual in James' view and he was greatly disgruntled to discover that his son was so close to a Slytherin, not to mention the fact that she stemmed from a notoriously dark family. "We know what Harry wants," he finished simply.

This only served to make Daphne angrier. "How do you know what he wants? You don't even know him to begin with!" she snarled, creating a scene.

Both adults took these harsh words in a painful way. They submerged into their thoughts, inducing their memories of Harry. Seeing Lily slackening her grip on her son's arm, Daphne wasted no time in yanking Harry away from them. Feeling him disconnected from her hands, Lily instinctively flung herself at him once more. Daphne growled menacingly as she pulled Harry's other arm more forcefully, desperate for the woman to yield.

Finally snapping out of his daze, Harry silently conveyed a message to Daphne with the look on his face. Reading this message, Daphne tentatively liberated his arm from her grip while remaining in her spot, determined to take him away from his family. Harry wheeled his head in the direction of his parents, smiling a bogus smile. Lily saw this and her heart clenched, though she managed to refrain from mentioning this to him.

"I'm sorry, but it would be vulgar for me to reject their invitation now," Harry proceeded. "I'll go with them and be home late. You two don't have to wait for me."

"But wouldn't you rather be with your family?" James asked impetuously, furrowing his eyebrows. Harry's smile faltered a tad and both adults caught on to it. They exchanged glances, both thinking the same thing. Next time, never mention the family thing in front of Harry.

"You're having a celebration with the Weasley's, right?" Harry asked.

James smiled, thinking this was a good sign. "Yes, if we can just be on our way-"

"Then all the more reason not to celebrate with you," Harry replied. He smiled stiffly afterwards. "You see, there was an... event... that happened during the feast that caused an... awkward moment... between their kids and I. Ask the brat-" Harry cleared his throat deliberately. "I mean, my baby brother, and he can tell you the whole story. I was the reason Gryffindor didn't win the house cup."

"Wait... you're not in Gryffindor?" The temperature around them sunk cold, drowning out all the warmth. That had been a stupid thing to say. Rashly, Harry grabbed Daphne's hand, squeezing it for comfort in an effort to contain his emotions. All this tension and he still managed to maintain a tight smile. Lily glared at James, both knowing they would now lose him to the Greengrass clan.

"I have to go now," Harry chocked out. "No need to keep people waiting for me. Rosaline might be searching for the two of you."

"Why don't you go say hello to your sister first? She probably wants her big brother to greet her," Lily said hastily, desperate for Harry to go with them.

"No, it's fine," Harry answered, preparing to exit. "She can see me tomorrow, she'll understand. Rosaline is a brilliant girl. As for the celebration, it will certainly go well without me and I really don't feel comfortable leaving the Greengrass family. I've been accepting their invitation ever since my first year at Hogwarts." Harry made a move to seize his trunk.

"If it's all the same to you, Harry, I'll be bringing your trunk home with us. That way, you don't have to carry it everywhere you go. It is pretty heavy," James protested. Harry finally relented, merely desiring to get away from them as soon as possible. This time, Harry strongly released his arm from Lily's.

"Come on, Pot - Harry... Let's not keep everyone waiting for us." Sending one final glare at the Potter parents, Daphne hauled her friend from them and toward her own parents.

James held Lily steadily in place, urging her to let go of Harry this time. The situation didn't bode well for either of them, and Harry clearly favored the Greengrass family more than his own. James' whispered in Lily's ear that if she made things worse now, it would only be harder to reach out to Harry later. And so they examined their eldest son's back, noting he bade them mere glances as he walked toward the other group. Also hard to ignore were the three girls glaring viciously at them across the distance as they towed Harry away.

The Greengrass matriarch was glowering at them more heatedly, repugnance shimmering in her eyes at the Potter adults. The head of the Greengrass family merely nodded his head at them, though distinctly missing was the friendly expression that should have accompanied the acknowledgement. The other three families were bewildered by this spectacle, even more confused when their daughters rushed to keep Harry away from his parents. The Potters' eyes loitered on the spot the section of the crowd their son had occupied, despite his having vanished away with another family long ago.

* * *

><p>It was late at night, nearly eleven, when green fire burst from the fireplace of the Potter mansion. This time, Harry landed on both feet, smirking smugly at his success. Who was the boss now? That is, before he lost his balance, wobbling violently on the spot and falling to his butt. Cursing irritably, he mumbled incoherently to himself. What was wrong with him and magical transportation? Damn it, even the Campbell adults were having more achievement than him and they were both Muggles! Harry was mortified at this realization.<p>

He hated the way the girls giggled at his turbulent voyages through the world of magical transportation.

No matter how much instruction he received, he just couldn't seem to get it right. Grumbling stridently, he rose to his feet, not bothering to sweep the dust off his attire. Exhaling noisily, Harry pulled his hat back, mending his ruffled hair. Late nights really exhausted him, and the gathering in Greengrass Manor had been nothing like the previous years. It was much merrier than usual. He raked a hand through his hair in frustration before dragging his feet in the direction of his room. Sensing someone in the room, he was suddenly on guard.

"Harry..."

He flinched for the second time that day, his right hand gripped tightly on his hat while the other clenched into a fist in his coat's pocket. Bottling his emotions, he looked at the person over his shoulder.

Lily Potter had fallen asleep waiting for Harry to come home. She was awoken by a persistent grumbling, but she couldn't imagine her son coming home this late. But surely that was to be expected after years of not knowing how he was, what he did, or where he was for long stretches of time. Lily was about to say something when she saw Harry yawn unconvincingly. It didn't fool her. She wasn't called the brightest witch of her generation for nothing.

"I think we all need to go to bed. I'm tired as hell." He gazed upfront, refusing to look at Lily. "Well, um... Goodnight."

He hastened his pace and strode to his room. Jogging to catch up to her son, Lily still lagged behind him. Harry was too fast. Her heart tore to see her son avoiding her so purposefully. But suddenly he froze. Curiosity splashed across her features as she watched him. The source of his pause was her three-year-old daughter, standing in front of her brother with a doll in her arms. Huge eyes, Lily rushed to her daughter, who was clearly very sleepy.

"Rosy, what are you doing out here? You should've been sleeping in your room."

"Rosy is weting for Hawwy to cme home," the girl smiled groggily.

Harry's eyes twitched at the way his sister addressed him, though he managed to give her a small smile, still entirely overlooking his mother. Lily glanced up, aware of the genuine smile on her son's lips. She bit her own lips, tears manifesting themselves in her eyes. It had been a long time since she'd witnessed him smiling that happily. Her gaze dropped to the floor, arms still holding her daughter. She wished so badly for her son to direct that smile at her.

For a moment, Harry's eyes flickered to Lily, causing him to frown. "Rosaline, next time you don't have to wait up. You can see me the next morning, alright?" Eyes sleepy, the girl merely smiled innocently, stepping out of her mother's hold and raising both of her tiny hands, begging Harry to take her. Harry glanced at Lily's shocked face, and then his eyes returned to his little sister. Pursing his lips and scowling, he walked straight past their stunned and confused faces.

"You should take her to bed... I'm going to sleep for the night," Harry muttered to Lily, evidently not in the mood to put up a shield beneath his true colors. He ignored Lily's attempt to discuss his behavior and instead slammed the door to his room in her face. He cast a powerful locking charm on the door, growling at the weird day he was having.

Lily stared at the place Harry had disappeared from, sighing miserably to herself. There was a small tug on the hem of her gown. She looked down and saw her daughter raising her hands once more. Smiling a little, Lily lifted Rosaline from the ground and glided into her daughter's room. She tucked her daughter, already fast asleep, into her bed. Engulfing her daugher's form in a warm blanket, she cast a warming charm to keep Rosy warm through the night. Lily extracted herself from the room, eyes saddened, and lingered instead outside Harry's door. Heaving a sad sigh, she decided to retire for the day. Opening the door to the master bedroom, she was surprised to find her husband still awake, sitting on the bed. He smiled rather desolately at her.

"How was it?" he asked softly. "Did you get a chance to talk to him?" Lily shook her head, eyes shimmering with fresh tears. "I-I see..."

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><p><strong>21 June 1992.<strong>

A loud knock sounded from Harry's door, followed by a whine.

Shifting irritably, Harry threw a pillow over his head to block out the noise. More banging followed, and the whining grew louder. He sat upright, tossing the pillow to the ground in aggravation and shielding his eyes from the light seeping through the curtains. Grumbling in fury, he rumpled his hair to give it even more of a tousled look. Harry glared at the door, fully aware who was waking him this early in the morning. Waving his hand, he elevated the locking charm. Within seconds, the door was opened by a small girl, tiptoeing in with two hands still on the door knob. Rosaline grinned at her brother's angry looks, unaware of what they meant. Shrieking gleefully, her tiny legs scurried to climb Harry's bed.

"Ooof..." And just like that, he was being tackled by a small body. Harry growled at this, gently removing his sister from him. "You're heavy, you know that?"

They girl pouted crossly, huffing. "Rosy is not fat!"

Rosaline puckered her lips and folded her arms over her chest. The pose made her look all the cuter, and Harry rolled his eyes playfully before stalking away from his bed. He began rummaging through his trunk for a small, stupid-looking troll, which he handed it to his sister. Rosaline inspected the doll.

"Rosy is not a troll! Rosy is a princess!" the girl roared, throwing her tiny arms in the air, exasperated.

Harry chuckled lowly, causing the scowl and anger in the girl's face to vanish. She had never seen her big brother smile so frequently, and his chuckle was a thrilling sound that melted all of the anger out of her. Rosaline watched in delight as Harry waved his hand, changing the doll from a troll into a princess, just like his sister dreamed of. Another wave and it grew to the size of Rosaline. Seeing this, Rosy exploded in delight, hugging the doll tightly.

"Oho, I get you a troll and you're all sulky, but I change it to a princess and you love it, huh? I always thought the troll suited you."

Rosaline poked her tongue out at Harry's teasing, liking this new brother of hers. She had never seen this side of him before. Shuffling over to him, she pulled his arm to her height and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. A tint of red developed on both of his cheeks, Harry being unused to such affection. She squealed at her brother's charming expression, causing Harry to scowl. With one final squeal, she dashed off to wherever she intended to go, dragging the doll along with her. Harry cast a weightless charm on the doll, just to make sure his sister wouldn't struggle to bring the doll with her. Harry had a feeling the doll would be her new favorite. Amused, he flicked his door shut and summoned a towel.

Sighing tiredly, he retired to his bathroom to prepare for the day ahead of him. Suddenly remembering there was something he had to do that day, he gazed at the lone parchment on his desk. A contract of his entry to Puddlemere United, which he'd signed last night after discussing it with William. Now he just needed to bring himself to Greengrass Manor today, along with the contract. There he will meet Mr. Gandalf, and the freaky guy would take him to the training field. Lifting the contract, Harry pondered this more carefully.

If he did this, there was a strong chance it would change his life. He grunted, placing the contract on the desk once more. Why was he exerting his brain energy on something like this? He usually went along with whatever surprises his life brought him, regardless of the changes they brought with them. Harry shrugged his shoulders and glided into the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Grabbing his brown coat that reached to his knees, he stuffed the contract into one of the pockets while simultaneously reaching for his Ascot hat. Exiting the room, he closed the door securely before sauntering down the stairs. All of a sudden, his foot froze in mid-air. All eyes were on him, and he felt uncomfortable. His entire family sat eating breakfast. Was it just him, or did they seem like they were expecting him to join them?<p>

"Harry," Lily greeted her son warmly. Harry scowled a little, trying to hide it from them. Why they were suddenly being so friendly to him was beyond him. In fact, he would prefer it if they would just leave him alone for the rest of the summer, like usual. "We've been waiting for you. Come and have a seat -"

"I have to go," he cut her off briskly, already walking to the fireplace, ignoring all of their looks.

"Wait, where are you going, Harry?" James demanded, standing up from his seat with concern.

Recomposing himself, Harry spun around to confront James, smiling tightly. "It's just something I promised Lord Greengrass. It's not like me to break promises, so I should go. Don't mind me, I'll be gone for most of the day. I can take care of myself." And without leaving them the opportunity to reply, he swept into the living room.

"Harry, wait!" Lily scuttled to him. Stopping, he looked at her, tilting his head as if to say, 'yes?' Lily smiled awkwardly at him. "Lord Greengrass won't be angry if he has to wait a little while. Have breakfast before you go. It's the most important meal of the day."

Harry stiffly returned her smile. "No, it's fine. I had breakfast already-" His words were cut off by the audible sound of his stomach growling. His eyes twitched, though he managed to preserve his smile. Why in God's name was his stomach betraying him? It was part of his own body, damn it!

Frowning, Lily's smile dropped momentarily, only to light back up again quickly. "A little breakfast won't do any harm-"

"If you'll excuse me, I really need to go," Harry interrupted abruptly, already grabbing a handful of glittering powder from the flowerpot and throwing it into the fireplace. "Greengrass Manor!" Before anyone else could breathe a word, he had stepped directly into the green flames. The last word he heard was Lily shouting out his name before the green fire swarmed his sight.

Harry's feet slammed on the ground, and just like some miniature devil was pulling pranks behind his back, Harry again tripped ineptly on his own feet, falling to the ground with a heavy thud. Looking up, he came across a grinning Peter Gandalf, who was struggling ineffectively to contain his laughter. Gandalf offered his hand and pulled Harry up from the floor. More out of habit than necessity, Harry brushed at the specks of dirt on his coat and adjusted his hat. Next time, it might be better to walk to his destination, no matter how long it might take him.

"Not good with Portkeys, are you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry grumbled affirmatively in response as he surveyed his surroundings. He had to conceal his amazement at how large the place was. There was a large building, beside which rested a field, opposite which was another field. Both fields were astonishingly larger than their Hogwarts counterparts. One field was currently occupied by seven players training rather aggressively. Presuming they were the main players, Harry watched as people, mainly players and employees, crowded all over the place. Harry simply couldn't believe Lord Greengrass owned this place, although he supposed that was to be expected from such a wealthy man.

"Gandalf, you're late," complained a gruff voice. Harry and his companion whirled around to see an aged man with tremendous height, broad shoulders, a peculiar mix of white-blond hair, and arresting blue eyes.

Gandalf elicited a bright smile. "Ah, Philbert, it's wonderful for you to greet us yourself. I would've thought you'd be far too busy with the players, or all those pesky papers in your office!"

"They're not worth my time. Bunch of sissies, those lads are," Philbert arrogantly spoke. "Why on earth are you late, Gandalf?"

"My apologies, Lady Greengrass insisted I join them for breakfast before I left. Lord Greengrass was also curious about our main players' development. He wants them in the best condition for the upcoming British and Irish league."

Philbert's eyes shined with curiosity. "And? Is he pleased?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes. Yes, quite pleased, if I do say so myself."

"Good." Philbert nodded in relief before switching his attention to Harry. "Is this the kid you were prattling about?"

"Yes! May I present to you a remarkably talented young man, Harry Potter!" Philbert's eyes narrowed at Harry. "Harry, this is the Puddlemere United coach, Philbert Deverill."

"A pleasure to meet you, sir," Harry politely acknowledged.

The man eyed him up and down, making Harry increasingly uncomfortable. "Are you sure he's up for it, Gandalf? This kid is what…thirteen?"

"Fourteen," Harry answered with a scowl. He didn't like this man at all. Deverill arched an eyebrow at the way Harry had blatantly talked back to him.

"Now, now, let's drop these unfavorable pleasantries," Gandalf fumbled in his robes and brought Harry's contract out, handing it to Deverill.

After checking the contract over and over again, Deverill grumbled, finally accepting it. Why Lord Greengrass had approved this contract was beyond him. The boy was too young for his taste. After all, he was still a student! Oh, well. He'd just have to go along with the procedure accordingly.

"Since you're close to Gandalf, he can give you a tour of our training facilities. After that, suit up in your gear, kid. You can join the others in the second pitch and we'll see what you're made of. If I don't take a liking to you, you'll be dropped out and never to step a foot in here again. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry visibly scowled at the man, glaring directly into his eyes. Deverill was slightly taken aback, no one had ever disrespected him so blatantly before. Thankfully, Gandalf steered the kid away from him after only a moment of unwanted confrontation. Deverill watched the boy's retreating figure with increasing interest. Well, he had some guts, Deverill would give him that much. But the kid's performance was all that mattered.

* * *

><p>"I'm telling you, Philbert, Mr. Potter is very talented on a broom! The way I saw him play was beyond my wildest imagination! You know Hooch, don't you? I had a talk with her, and she praised Mr. Potter again and again for his talent."<p>

"And I'm telling you, Gandalf, he's not that good compared to the other players here. Hogwarts must be losing its Quidditch reputation. Rubbish, that kid! Hooch has been losing her touch ever since she left the professional field," Deverill countered grumpily. Both men stood on the pitch watching twenty players gathering in the distance. Their eyes lingered on Harry, who was overlooking his surroundings. "Look at him, he's already the laughing stock of the team. He makes me want to weep! Every player here is over the age of twenty and he's just a kid! This is early for him… too early, in fact. He's what? Thirteen?"

"Fourteen, and nearly fifteen, I'll have you know."

"Of course, of course. Whatever you say."

Gandalf gazed at the other players as they laughingly mocked Harry. Harry, discounting his environments, looked bored rather than nervous. "You're being arrogant, Philbert, and you're going to swallow your words, as will the other players when Mr. Potter completes his training. Mr. Potter is special. I just know it."

"We'll see about that. Though I do have to admit, he's got quite a fit body for a kid." Deverill took note of the way the training robes hugged Harry's body. "Looks like he's been preparing for this for years."

"See!" Gandalf exclaimed excitedly.

"He can only impress me through performance, not appearance, Gandalf." Deverill stared at the team's trainers, barking orders sternly, "Give them eight laps around the field to warm-up first!"

The six trainers nodded their heads in unison and immediately carried out their boss's orders.

"Don't you think that's a bit harsh? He's still new to all this."

"I intended it to be harsh."

"Philbert, he's just a boy. I can understand eight laps for the others, but him?"

"His being here means it's his responsibility to do whatever the hell I want his arse to do," Deverill argued. "What? Unsure of your talented boy?"

"I didn't say that. I have the utmost confidence in Mr. Potter's abilities."

A smirk appeared on Deverill's gruff face. "We'll see..."

* * *

><p>The last of the training ended with many players exhausted from the running, heaving heavy breaths. Harry, on the other hand, seemed only slightly fatigued, impressing everyone on the field. The coach and financial manager of the team took special notice of the fact that Harry was always at the front of the line, first to start and first to finish. Harry had trained in the ways of Muggle martial arts, having wanted to protect himself before he had learned of his magical heritage. So it was no surprise to him that he had quite the endurance.<p>

"He's got enough stamina to impress me quite a bit, I'll give him that," Deverill calmly claimed.

"And it would seem he still has plenty left," Gandalf said in awe. Deverill scowled at that.

Shifting to one of the trainers, he sternly commanded him. "Alright, I want to get on with the training regimen. Let them fly for a few minutes before going through the usual." The trainer nodded his head, intimidated by the man's presence. It was well known how stern the coach was. "Well, get on with it!" Deverill watched in satisfaction as the trainer scurried away from him and asked the players to mount their brooms.

There were a number of heavy, wooden dolls hovering in the air, set in various positions in order to force players to evade.

The purpose of the first training exercise was to fly from one goal post to the other, one at a time, as the trainers timed and reviewed their performances. Of the twenty players, Harry was the sixth fastest. This was largely due to the fact that he had decided to ram through the last three dolls blocking his way, rather than evading them like the other players. He had been surprised by the heavy weight of the dolls, but managed to pass through them all the less. The others were very impressed at his display of power and the excellent way with which he handled the broom. The general feeling among them was that Harry Potter was a natural in broom.

"Who's the kid, coach?" a new voice interjected. Jocelind Wadcock, the captain of Puddlemere United, was amazed at Harry's talent. At times, it seemed as though Harry and the broom were one single being.

"Wadcock, this field is for reserve players only. Go back to your teammates and wait for me there, like the captain is supposed to do."

"Lighten up, coach. I just want to familiarize myself with the reserve players this year. Why can't we just have permanent reserve players, anyway? Heck of a lot easier than changing them every year,"

"It's because we'd like to give the opportunity to those who show great potential," Gandalf answered enthusiastically.

"Ah, Mr. Gandalf, sir. Good to see you again."

"Good to see you as well, Mr. Wadcock."

Wadcock nodded his head. "So, who's the kid, coach? I've never seen him around. He a fresh player?"

"Yes, a student from Hogwarts, recommended by Gandalf here. Only thirteen years old."

"Philbert, he's fourteen, and even you have to admit his performance is extraordinary for a young fellow," Gandalf admonished.

"I agree, coach," Wadcock commented, his eyes on Harry.

"This is just the first obstacle. He'll break down at the next stage, just wait and see," Deverill muttered grumpily. Turning his attention back to the trainers, he barked, "Get on with the next stage!"

The dolls were brought down as the trainers charmed several bludgers to chase the players. This exercise was simple. All the players had to do was evade the furious bludgers for as long as possible. However, these bludgers were nothing like Harry had ever faced at Hogwarts. Every player was forced to participate, and the last one standing would stand the highest chance of becoming a reserve player. Not only were the players required to evade the bludgers, but also their teammates flying amidst the chaos.

Harry emerged victoriously, his knack for evading bludgers and uncoordinated players tremendously impressive. At one point he'd even attempted, to no avail, to out-fly the bludgers, who consequently proved themselves to be faster than his broom, however, he was nonetheless praised for his brave attempt. Harry had managed to remain the only player not knocked off his broom because of his reflexes and innate sense for incoming attacks. Apparently his tough training with Merlin had paid off.

"Something tells me he's a natural flier," Wadcock observed, already picturing the boy as the brilliant player he would be in the years to come.

"Yes, he does, doesn't he? The way he played the last game at Hogwarts was most spectacular! I felt compelled to propose the training offer to him immediately!" Gandalf exclaimed.

"Well I, for one, think you did a great job in bringing him here, Mr. Gandalf, sir."

Gandalf beamed at the compliment.

"There are still many more obstacles left for him to overcome. Don't get your hopes up on this kid," Deverill said brusquely.

"Just don't be disappointed if he passes them all, coach."

"Wadcock!" Deverill snapped. "Get back to your post and practice! I don't seem to recall giving you permission to come here! The league is just around the corner, so you'd best be sharpening up the team. With that attitude of yours, we'll be knocked out in our first match!" Wadcock stood up straighter in response to the stern voice and swiftly jumped to accomplish the task.

"The kid will break down after this session," Deverill continued as if Wadcock had never interrupted him.

"You need to give the boy a chance, my friend. I know he's young, but perhaps that's just what need to win the league. But for now, you must excuse me, as I have papers waiting in my office to attend to. I'll check on his progress later on." Gandalf shook his head at his friend. "And for the record, I always follow protocol when inviting a new player to join Puddlemere. I didn't play favorites with this boy. He was talented, so I signed him on. You're just lucky I found him before one of the opposing teams did." He turned away from the players and sauntered over to the large building, stopping once more only to shoot another comment at Deverill. "Oh, and Philbert? If it weren't for our owner suggesting I check in with the boy at his last match, I would never have found him in the first place."

The bold statement swept Deverill off his feet and he found himself looking at his colleague in shock. "You're saying Lord Greengrass recommended him to you? But that's never happened before…"

"Yes, I am aware of that."

"What on earth could the boy have done to pique the owner's interest?"

"I have no idea. I was merely informed of his connection to the Greengrass family - apparently the eldest daughter is quite close to Mr. Potter."

"So, what? The kid requested for the eldest daughter to get him onto the team?" Deverill asked in outrage.

"You misunderstand me, Philbert. Lord Greengrass had to trick the boy into playing his best at the Hogwarts games. That way I could use my position as scout."

Deverill's eyebrow rose up at this strange occurrence. Never before had the owner acted so strangely toward a person, maybe the kid did have something special in him. Deverill turned away from Gandalf's retreating figure and roved the field with his eyes. Just because the owner wished it so did not mean he had to let the kid on the team. He was thirteen, for Merlin's sake! Err, fourteen… The boy's inexperience in real matches and his inability to work together with his teammates would be his downfall.

"Divide them into positions - chasers, beaters, seekers, or keepers. We'll judge their performance that way, from here on out," Deverill roared, watching in satisfaction as the trainers scurried off to do as he ordered. Resting his eyes once more on the boy, he realized with a strange curiosity that Harry would be playing chaser.

* * *

><p>Harry sighed in exhaustion. He was completely worn out from training, a fact that made him realize just how different the professional level was from Quidditch at Hogwarts. But thankfully, due to his training with the greatest bastard on earth, his body could handle anything the Puddlemere trainers threw at him. After all, it had only been one day and people were already in awe at him.<p>

Stretching his strained neck, he winced. Getting hit by those bludgers was not something he looked forward to going through again. Compared to the beaters here, bludgers thrown by Hogwarts' beaters were like getting punched by a baby. He shook his head, clearing it of bludger fantasies. Analyzing his surroundings, he sighed in frustration. He was standing in the coach's office, having previously changed out of his training gear and back into the attire he'd been wearing when he arrived. His brown coat hung loosely across his left forearm as he stood in the room, waiting for the coach.

"Good, you're here," came the gruff voice. Harry glanced over his shoulder to see the coach enter, shutting the door behind him. Harry's eyes followed the coach's movements as the man took a seat behind his desk. "I don't have a whole lot to say to you, kid, but let's get to the point. I summoned you here after the training session for a reason." Harry nodded his head. "Tough training, huh?"

Confused, Harry nevertheless answered politely. "Yes. Hogwarts is nothing compared to this."

"At the professional level, we push our players to the height of their potential and beyond. Professional Quidditch is demanding, kid. Very demanding. Winning a cup is imperative to us, cups are our golden tickets to better lives. I mean, we thrill at the taste of total and complete victory. Do you get what I'm saying, kid?"

"Yes," Harry replied without hesitation. "You're saying it's as though your very life depends on winning this cup."

"Precisely. You know, Potter, you're beginning to grow on me. The other players here, they don't have the brains to understand me, but you... you get me, kid. And that's good for you, because there are only two people you need to convince to sign you on to Puddlemere United. Do you know who those people are, kid?" Harry shook his head truthfully. "Peter Gandalf and me. You know Gandalf already approved you joining the club by handing you a contract, but I haven't agreed to it yet."

Harry breathed deeply to calm his emotions. "You meant to say that a person needs two approvals to get on the team. So even if one of you approves, it doesn't matter as long as the other doesn't. It has to be both."

"You're a brilliant kid and you're on my good list." A tiny smile crossed the man's face. "The thing that I don't like about you though, is your age. The problem there is that you'll be missing training as a student at Hogwarts. I don't like my players missing training, understand, kid?" Harry nodded his head affirmatively, bracing himself. "You still have a long way to go. I'll admit it's impressive for a kid like yourself to breeze through our initial training program, but that isn't enough for me." Deverill eyed the kid in an attempt to identify his feelings, but it was impossible. "Congratulations, kid, you're a Puddlemere."

Stunned, Harry blinked his eyes in confusion as the coach signed his contract.

"Training starts tomorrow at seven o'clock, sharp. Here's your I.D. badge, kid. Don't lose it." The coach handed Harry a badge imprinted with the club's emblem - two golden bulls, horns crossed. "That badge also serves as your Portkey. It'll bring you to the lobby on the ground floor. Your locker will be up tomorrow, with your jersey inside." Deverill waved his wand, and Harry's badge flashed brightly. Harry's splitting image plastered across the plastic, directly on top of the emblem.

"I thought I wasn't allowed to join the team?"

Deverill allowed a smirk to curl upon his lips. "I forgot to mention that with the owner's approval, you don't need Gandalf's and mine."

"Really?"

"I'm beginning to like you, kid, but don't get your hopes up. Yeah, I approve of you being on the team. I can't deny that you're a very talented player, and we'd be stupid to turn you down. But you're still inexperienced in real matches. We'll just see how far you can go from here. You know, I once learned something important from a creepy old man. Sometimes one little seed can grow into a menacing plant. Right now, kid, you're that seed."

"Uh... thank you... coach..." Harry said awkwardly.

Deverill nodded his head solemnly. "Good. Be ready for tomorrow, kid. The training will be even more severe. You can use the floo down in the lobby to get home today. Now, get out of my sight, you just gave me a ton of work and a headache. It's not easy dragging you into this club."

Harry found his way out of the office, smiling unconsciously at what happened today. He was on the team. Generally, things like this didn't excite him, but today he felt like he would burst. He had just become the youngest person to ever join a professional Quidditch team. This was a sign that he had a good life ahead of him.

* * *

><p><strong>30 June 1992.<strong>

Daniel Potter thought he was the first one to awake in the mansion. No longer tired, he decided to stroll around in an attempt to kill time.

Once he arrived downstairs, he heard someone bustling around in the kitchen. This baffled him, as his mum never woke up this early. As he stepped into the kitchen, he was met with a strange surprise. There was his brother, leaning against the counter, nonchalantly reading letters from his friends. However, that wasn't the astonishing thing. It was the frying pan on the stove, cooking itself without anyone attending to it. There wasn't a wand in his brother's hand, nor a warning letter from the ministry for his use of underage magic. How powerful was his brother? As far as anyone knew, doing even the simplest magic without a wand was excruciatingly hard and required loads of concentration. But not for his brother - he did it coolly, without a care.

"How long are you going to stand there and gape, brat?" That caused Daniel to wisely shut his gaping mouth, blushing embarrassingly. "I just wished there was something disgusting in here. That way I could stuff it in your mouth."

Daniel grumbled incoherently, by now far too used to his brother sending such scathing comments on his way.

Harry didn't bother to look up and he sat on one of the chairs. Waving his hand without so much as a glance, his eyes still intent on reading the letters he'd received from the girls, two plates and two glasses came flying down to position themselves on the table. Leaning back carelessly in his chair and with another wave, the frying pan flew to the table and served him the meal. Daniel stared in confusion at the two meals laid out on the table. One for his brother, but whom was the other intended for? This time, Harry glanced up, eyes boring into Daniel's.

"Don't be an idiot, brat. It's for you." Daniel fluttered his eyes in shock. "Don't worry, I didn't poison it. If I had known you'd be up early today, then yeah, I would have fed you with some of the deadliest poison I could find, but since the future is unpredictable, I didn't get the chance." The eleven-year-old boy choked on his own saliva at the casual way his brother stated this. Was Harry joking, or was this for real? "Well, what are you waiting for? Sit down and dig in, brat."

Daniel hastened to take a seat next to his brother and eat the breakfast Harry had kindly made for him. He blinked his eyes in shock at the delicious taste in his mouth. For a long while, the two brothers sat quietly eating their breakfast, not bothering in the least by the awkward silence. Daniel occasionally glanced at his brother as Harry simultaneously ate his breakfast and replied to the letters.

"One more of those glances and you'll get a new look, brat. Black eyes."

Daniel's back stiffened and he whipped his head away from his brother fearfully. How had Harry known? He hadn't even glanced at Daniel.

"Stop calling me brat," Daniel scowled, eyes intent on avoiding his brother's. "I do have a name, you know."

"Like I give a damn." Daniel winced at his brother's tone. "If you can deem yourself worthy in my eyes, then I'll call you by your name. 'Till then, get used to how I talk to you, _brat_." Harry deliberately emphasized the word.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Daniel sulked, taking another bite of his breakfast.

"Figure it out yourself." Standing up, Harry snapped his finger. The plate and glasses hovered over to the sink and he cast a cleaning charm on the sink and stove. Smirking at the shining, spotless items, he shoved his hands in his pockets. As he exited the room, his letters followed behind, floating lazily through the air.

"Wait a minute, where are you going now?" Daniel called after his brother, standing up and discounting another sight of more wandless magic. "You haven't been home ever since summer started. You always go out early and come home late. Mind telling me what's going on? Dad and mum are worried." Daniel involuntarily stepped back as he was met with cold, emerald eyes.

"Why even bother asking? It's none of your concern." With that, Harry strode away from the kitchen and back to his room, perpetually pursued by his stack of papers. Slumping back into the chair, Daniel breathed a sigh of relief. What was that all about? He was only been telling Harry the truth. He never understood his brother, no one did. Well, except for those pretty girls he continuously hanging out with.

* * *

><p>Wiping his sweaty brow on the sleeve of his training robes, Harry suavely flew to the ground. He was the last to land, watching as all of the other players went back to the locker room for a nice long shower. He had been last on purpose. He was sick of coping up with the other players. He intentionally showered after everyone else had finished in the locker room. After being here a week, he could now safely say he had gotten used to this kind of life. At the very least, it kept him away from the Potter mansion.<p>

His problems, however, stemmed from his bullying teammates.

He was patient in tolerating the bullying, generally not paying it any mind. The reasoning behind his patience came from remembering all the nice things the Greengrass family had done for him and their inevitable disappointment if he ignited some trouble now. He didn't want to become a thorn in their side. They had even bought him a new Nimbus 2001, much faster than the old version. He had vehemently tried to decline the extravagant gift, but in the end, he was forced into accepting it. By now, the Greengrass family had their own ways of convincing him into accepting their gifts. He always felt the urge to beat the crap out of his bullies, but because of the kindness of the Greengrass', he had thus far managed to refrain from doing so.

The bullying wasn't that bad at first. They just locked his locker, or stole his things, seeing as they were not underage and could use magic freely. Harry dealt with it by unlocking his locker wandlessly and summoning his stolen items, though he did have to do it while no one was looking. At first their surprised looks amused him, however little by little their bullying tactics were getting out of hand, and this irritated him to no end. Immature, the whole lot of them. And yet, he still maintained his patient streak, dealing with it by using wandless magic.

Thus far he had been neither hurt, nor humiliated by their bullying. However, he knew that if this kept up, one of these days he would be. As he walked to the building, broom slung over his shoulder, his forehead creased at the crowd gathering around the notice board. He recalled that the list of this year's reserve players was to be posted today. Harry shrugged his shoulders indifferently. It wasn't like he was going to be on it. But once he joined the crowd, everyone grew silent as they stared at him. Harry didn't even bother to hide his scowl. What was up with these people? Scratching his head in confusion at their stares, he moved his eyes to the notice board. His eyes widened and he almost dropped his broom in astonishment.

He was on the reserve team! There, right there, three chasers had been selected, and his name was one of them! He was positive his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. Harry Potter was the third and final chaser to be substituted in the real matches if a main player was unable to play. Staring down the horde of people, he freed the smirk tugging at his lips. "What's the matter? Has the news rendered you all speechless? How does it feel to be beaten by a kid? Isn't it funny how I've only been here for a week while the rest of you have been here for years?" He sneered directly at those players who had been bullying him for the past week. Smirking even more, he brushed past their stunned faces. He couldn't help it, revenge is just too sweet.

* * *

><p>Harry sighed as he debated whether or not he should enter. Grunting, he decided he might as well just get on with it. He knocked on the door politely.<p>

"Come in!" someone called after a while. Coach Deverill glanced up from a stack of papers, a scowl jotted across his face. He was wearing glasses, prompting Harry to assume the coach was having trouble in seeing the words. "What do you want, kid?" His gruff voice never changed. "Make it quick, I'm busy here!"

"It's the news about me being one of the reserve players." Harry quickly learned that it was far too easy to annoy the coach.

"What of it?" Deverill questioned grumpily, returning to the stack of papers.

Harry pursed his lips, scowling slightly. "Coach, I've been here for a week. A week and two days to be precise. It isn't right for me to be thrown onto the reserve team for all the important matches."

Deverill stopped what he was doing and slowly reverted his attention back to the boy, calmly dropping the papers and quill back onto his desk. "I would've thought you'd be jumping for joy at the news, kid." His sarcasm was noted.

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, coach, but I was more shocked than overcome with happiness," Harry countered with the same sarcasm.

Deverill smirked in amusement, removing his glasses. "What's the problem, kid? All the other players see this as an opportunity to rise to fame and boost their career in terms of professional Quidditch."

"It's not that, coach." Harry's scowl deepened and he glowered at the man. "The only reason I'm here is to repay a family that has treated me kindly for many years. Not for fame, or any other rubbish like that."

Deverill's right eyebrow rose upon hearing that. "Well, it would seem that obtaining fame is second nature to you, kid. You're already famous around here. But I understand what you're getting at. Gandalf was kind enough to inform me of the full story concerning how he first met you and I hear the Greengrass family has been treating you well ever since you were eleven."

"So will you reconsider? I don't think I'm prepared to take such a major step yet. It's too much. I thought I would be trained and nothing more this summer."

"What you're saying is garbage, kid," Deverill spoke indifferently. "I may be the coach of Puddlemere United, but I didn't decide who got to be on the team and whose not. I'm just the same as all those trainers, giving you cowardly orders about what to do, planning the moves and all that. I just have higher rank than the others."

"What?" Harry asked, confused. "Then who chose the teams?"

"The majority of the staff did, along with the owner. You were voted in by all of us. You're on the reserve list because you incredibly outclass all those fools that have been training under me for years. As long as you beat the other players, then you're okay with us. Everyone agreed that you should be put on the reserve team and that's that. The decision can't be overrode."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," Deverill repeated, putting his glasses on and returning to the papers.

"B-bu-but, coach! Think about this! I'm-"

"Look, kid, I'm stressed enough with all these papers, the league, and all the shit I'm dealing with right now. You being here are just making me more stressed." Deverill kneaded his temples in a sign of frustration. "Kid, the moment you join our club, you become Puddlemere's. That means you're a player and have to be ready for whatever we throw at you. You're a professional now, kid. No more hesitation. That hesitation will be the downfall for you and us all. Do you see the badge you're holding at the moment?" Harry nodded his head, raising his right hand to show the Puddlemere emblem and his identification as one of the club's members. "That thing proves that you're one of us. We don't treat you as a student, or some immature brat, but as a member of Puddlemere United. Be proud of that and stand tall, kid."

Pulling his hat back, Harry ruffled his hair nervously. "This is all so new to me, coach. All I know is that before, I was a normal student who enjoyed doing nothing, just laying back and relaxing. But now, in the blink of an eye, I've been offered the opportunity to join Puddlemere and then thrown off into an important role on the team after being here for just a week."

"I understand, kid, but that's what makes life interesting, isn't it? Life surprises you in every way. It brings you joy, happiness, and sadness altogether," Deverill observed. "Listen, kid, just believe in yourself. Seeing you lose all that composure and coolness you have around all the time is just plain creepy. Be yourself and have faith in your abilities, you got that?"

"I guess..." Harry replied unsurely.

"Good. Now go prepare yourself for Puddlemere's first match against the Caerphilly Catapults on July fourth." Harry understood this as his signal to leave. "Kid... if it helps, I didn't have any intention of placing you in the matches just yet. No matter how good you are, you're young, the same as every kid your age. What I want you to do in those matches, just watch the flow of the game. That way, you can brace yourself for it in the future. To tell you the truth, the chance for a reserve player to play in the tournament matches is very slim." Harry sighed in relief, once again making for the door. "But..."

Harry halted in his exit to turn and faced the coach. "There is a chance that I'll substitute you for one of the main players, so it'd be best to just prepare yourself. You never know what the future holds, kid." Harry nodded his head solemnly. "Good. Now get out of here. You're just giving me more headaches. If this is the kind of treatment I get for meeting you, then it'd be best for you not to come to me again unless I summon you." Harry smirked. "Watch it, kid. I'll let loose all the bludgers on you in the next training if you're not careful." Deverill was the one smirking now as the kid rushed out of his office, face ashen.

"Sometimes it's very hard not to like that kid..." Deverill muttered to himself, shaking his head and looking over the papers once more.


	10. Chapter 9, Season 2

**Chapter 9.**

**3 July 1992.**

Harry Potter was proud to declare, he was the youngest member in Quidditch history of playing professional.

In spite he did not parade it to anyone, he was itching in excitement and was ready to burst. It's simply extraordinary for a player whose age young as him, joined one of the Quidditch professional clubs but here he is, currently dressed in his own Puddlemere Jersey, robes of navy-blue emblazon with two crossed golden bull rushes. He rushed down the stadium, toiling behind his teammates. He was awed with all the sights around him. So many people crowded in one stadium and they all rolled up to see the game. He didn't know what to make of it, whether to be quavering in edginess or just breakdown at the sheer number of the large crowds.

Harry never experienced anything like it.

His heart was thumping rapidly, too loud. He swore anyone in the proximity could hear his heart beating. Not to mention, the crowds were flocking to them, but respectfully gave them a pathway to the changing room for their preparation of the match with Caerphilly Catapults. He was thankful that he was in the middle of the group. That way, no one get to see him. His admittance on being the member of Puddlemere United hasn't leaked out yet as there hasn't been any news regarding it. He steadied his breath, inhaling and exhaling. It's just his luck that the media hadn't discovered anything about him yet. Now, Harry marveled if accepting the offer from Mr. Gandalf was the right thing to do. Gulping at the cheer from the crowds, he imposed his legs to stop shaking. The noise banged against his eardrums powerfully. This is so unlike him at all.

As a hand clamped on one of his shoulders, his body stiffened. Looking over his shoulder, Jocelind Wadcock smiled at the young fellow in front of him. "Nervous, mate?" Harry shook his head, a bit too rapid, not trusting his own voice.

The captain approached him a few days ago along with the other main players. They all congratulated him of his achievements in the team and some were awed because of how fast Harry rose up in just a short amount of time. In all honesty, Harry was flattered with them. What he knew was that the captain was definitely Jocelind Wadcock, the other chaser was the once Holyhead Harpies star chaser, Wilda Griffiths and the oldest player of Puddlemere, Brien Carras, also a chaser. There were two beaters, Maxwell Montmerry and Katy Fonger, the star seeker, Benjy Williams and the skilful keeper, Casper Doukas.

His deep blue eyes glittered in hilarity. "Don't worry, mate. The first time is kind of panicky to everyone else, but you'll be fine after some time. Trust me, you'll get used to it." Harry just nodded his head, though not heeding what Wadcock said to him.

Damn it, he was nervous as hell. He never felt anything like it. He had fewer words with Lord Greengrass in Puddlemere's headquarters wherein it staggered everyone with the exception of Gandalf and Deverill. The man was seeking to ease Harry's nervousness, but it won't do well with him trembling in anxiety all the time. Who wouldn't anyway? With this large crowd watching them, it was nerve breaking. Nonetheless, with all the nervousness building inside him, it gradually ebbed away once he watched the game between Puddlemere United and Caerphilly Catapults. His eyes were like a hawk observing the game, calculating their movements.

He wasn't surprised how spectacular each player played their game given that he attended one of the games before with the Greengrass. He even spotted the snitch after fifteen minutes of the game, though, just hearing the thousands of cheers is breathtaking. Still, he's not ready to play with a thousand pairs of eyes following every of his movement. He preferred to just butt out of it. True to Coach's words, the reserve players have slim chances on playing the game since the main players handle any injuries very well. Harry was relieved after the game ended and Puddlemere won the first game by 840 to 670, going on for two hours and thirty minutes. It's because the snitch was much harder and faster to catch, compared to Hogwarts'.

That night, Harry had the first taste of what professionals were like when they celebrated their first victory.

* * *

><p><strong>30 July 1992.<strong>

For nearly a month, the team had seven games and Harry attended all Puddlemere's matches as one of the reserve chasers.

The nervousness inside him was no longer there once he watched the games. He, by now, had gotten used to it. He still went on with the daily training regime. Due to his vigorous training given by Puddlemere, his body grew to be more attractive than normal. That, and he happened to add extra vigorous training to himself. His charms increased further because of it. He didn't know if he was pleased or should groan at it. His muscles aren't that big, they're just moderate. His body is gorgeously cut, making him simply more attractive, nothing more. It did cause the girls to blush furiously when he wore just a sleeveless Muggle shirt at the time he and their families assembled in Daphne's estate.

It became a common thing for them to be gathering in the Greengrass mansion. William was even kind enough to install a floo network in the Campbell's house. That way, they won't have to take the underground tunnels through the Leaky Cauldron to get to the Wizarding world. The first time Astoria set her sight on her crush's recent transformation, was the day she lost her ability to speak, mouth closing and opening consistently. In truth, her voice momentarily disappeared when he was around her. Harry considered her common blush for him was impressive, nice shades of red but nothing compared to her new blush. Harry was sure her face looks exactly like a ripe of tomato, akin to it.

Thanks to that, he had been getting timid glares from Regine's little brother, Noah. He also became an idol to the twins, Regine's baby brothers. The older ones were no different than their daughters, they also blushed at his new gorgeous looks which Harry was greatly uncomfortable of. Thankfully, their husbands didn't fault him for it, only scolded their wives when the couples were out of earshot. Elizabeth merely smiled brightly to him and complimented his looks without a blush on her face, stating he grew a lot in the last month which she approved of, satisfied with it.

He was thankful with that because he viewed Elizabeth as a mothering figure. It would be awkward for him if she possessed a slight attraction to his appearance, but she was never like that. She just treated him as if she was her son. His heart soared at the simple thought and with all that, he's still oblivious on how much he affected the females in most occasions. Harry was and always will be an idiot once he relates himself to these kinds of emotions and feelings. It's to be expected considering how his upbringing was, and that is why he cannot be blamed for it.

* * *

><p>"All right, gather up!" Deverill bellowed, his voice resonated in the changing room. "Hurry up, you cowards! Gather up, I say!"<p>

Every player fastened their doings and rushed to their coach, lining up. Harry shuffled his way to them, taking his place on the back.

"Listen to me, you bunch of useless idiots, this is it," Deverill began his inspirational speech in the locker room. "This is our time, our moment, our life and our bonus depend on this, on this game! This game, every inch of it, our life is at stake here! I live to win, not to lose and that goes the same to you cowards! If we beat Montrose Magpies, then we're on our way to the finals. Hear the crowds roar for you, never forget their screams and support for Puddlemere, for you! Play your best out there and thrash those sissies! We aim to win, aim for the cup, not to lose! Let's liven up the once great Puddlemere United name! So go out there and show them what you made of! Show them why you are a Puddlemere's!" Harry's heart skipped a beat at the speech, however, he grumbled when, "Or else you all will be responsible for cleaning the club without any magic, just bare hands, scrubbing everything!" Deverill threatened, glaring at each them. Their face dramatically paled. Harry rolled his eyes, way to ruin the moment. "Play your best and for Merlin sake, win, damn it!"

"Alright, Puddlemere on three!" Deverill roared, placing his right hand in front of the group. His hand then flooded with many hands from the players, including Harry's. "One, two, three…"

"PUDDLEMERE!" Harry swore the room vibrated by the boom they had just created. After that, Harry took his place outside and sat on the bench that had been provided for the reserve players, staring at the main players stepping on the field. Today, he didn't know why, but he had a sinking feeling that something terrible was going to happen and damn, he was fidgeting in anxiety.

* * *

><p>"Welcome ladies and gentleman to the semi-final of British and Irish league tournament. We are here to watch the Puddlemere United against Montrose Magpies, battling each other for the spot in the finals. I'm Marvin Gudabin, your commentator for today along with my partner, Arnold Volger." A deep voice echoed in the stadium, loud for everyone to hear it.<p>

"Right you are, Marv, this is the moment we all get to see- to see who will take on Ballycastle Bats in the finals. The conflicts and tensions between the two sides are clearly palpable to our Quidditch fans out there. I don't know if I could handle that kind of pressure if I was in the middle of the two teams, Marv." This voice was much more different than the last commentator, more enlightened.

"Well, we'll just see which team will be qualified to go on to the finals. Both teams are in their top and best condition this year, ready to take on anything that each team throws at each other."

"I agree, Marv. It's hard to say who's going to win the match now, but I have my bets on Magpies, all people do. Puddlemere is just losing its touch these days, I tell you. What they need is a fresh player to carry them all the way to the top and I sure hope they find some talented player or they're just going to be disappointed with how the match goes."

"Let's just hope Puddlemere United has what it takes to beat Montrose Magpies, Arnold."

"I can't argue with you on that, Marv."

"And we're here live in Ellis Moor Quidditch stadium filled with many fans cheering for two teams," proclaimed the commentator.

* * *

><p>Today was the semi-final match between Puddlemere United and Montrose Magpies. All the tickets were sold out and the crowds were larger than any of the previous matches. The girls attended the semi-final match in a special booth, more spacious and larger than the rest in the stadium.<p>

It was reserved for only the Greengrass, but they brought along their friends to watch the game, thinking it would be more fun in groups than by themselves. Three girls were actually excited to see how professional game goes, especially Sheila. She couldn't sit still in her seat, hopping giddily. She was joined by her father as both father and daughter are Quidditch fanatics. Funnily, William shared their enthusiasm in Quidditch. Despite the Jonnet was a wealthy and pureblood family, they never managed to get a ticket or two for the game, and now Daphne's father invited them, they were thrilled. Thrilled was far from it, in their case.

Callista's family was awed by the place, both parents and daughter alike. Elizabeth was happy enough in enlightening them the details of the stadium, how the magic works and all. It's not easy to bring two Muggles here, but with the Greengrass' influence, it's easy enough. Regine's family was not far behind them. They wore looks of admiration on their faces. Even though, they had become somewhat familiar on their own quite well in the Wizarding world, they never had the privilege to be in such higher places, considering their families were half-bloods. The children are, only the father is a Pureblood and the mother is a Muggle-born.

"Hey, do you think Harry gets to play in the game?" Sheila screamed enthusiastically. "Hey, put Harry in the game!"

Daphne cringed, covering her ears with both of her hands. "Jonnet! You don't have to shout, I can hear you because I'm right next to you! And I don't know!" she growled, glaring the perky girl.

Sheila didn't pay attention to Daphne as she whooped in exhilaration. Daphne's eyes twitched in annoyance and averted her eyes to her two other best friends on her left side. Her eyes comically bulged at both girls, blanched. They both were wearing accessories of Puddlemere's, long hats, scarves and other silly things of Puddlemere. The fact that they were cheering for Puddlemere was what amazed her.

"Come on, I want to see some fucking blood! Not this!"

"Callista, what are you saying?" Daphne couldn't believe what her ears were taking in from her gentle friend.

The girl gave an igneous look to Daphne, fluttering her eye lashes innocently. "Yes?"

"What's taking you all so long? We didn't pay the tickets to wait and listen to boring speeches! Get on with it! We came here for the game! For the game, you shitless arseholes! Oy! Can you hear me?"

"Regine!" Daphne shrieked incredulously, appalled of their behavior. She could understand Sheila but...them?

"What?" Regine said, shrugging her shoulders offhandedly. "It's no fun without cheering something, even though we didn't actually buy the tickets, it's not like anyone is going to hear a word from out of my mouth."

Daphne slapped her forehead, running it down her face and shaking her head in mortification. She centered her attention to the accessories now. "What are you two wearing?" Daphne demanded, her voice overwhelmed by the crowds.

They stopped cheering, reclaiming their seats and they looked at her oddly. "It's to support Puddlemere, Daph and its fun..." Regine answered. Perching on her left shoulder, her red owl was happily hooting, donning a small scarf of Puddlemere around its neck and a small jersey fitted for it.

"Take it off, you two," Daphne commanded sternly. "Take it off, now!"

"Come now, Daphne. This is the precise time for us to blow our steam off. O.W.L is coming soon so let's have a splendid time while it lasts. There is no harm in doing it, right? This way, we can show our support to Harry as well."

Callista grinned at her Slytherin friend. Regine shared the same grin.

"I agree... in fact-" The two girls traded mischievous grins, eyes glimmering and they pulled another Puddlemere's long hat out of nowhere. Daphne's eyes grew wide at that. She backed away from them without thinking. "-You should join our happy little charade."

"Oh no! Take another step and I'll curse you both with some hideous spells. Don't test my patience!" They both presented her their best puppy dog eyes. "Don't give me those looks! Stop it and I mean it. No! Just drop it, you two!" In the end, she capitulated, nodding her head dismally. "Fine..."

The two girls cheerfully situated the hat on top of Daphne's head, inserting a scarf around her neck. Daphne grunted in her seat, crossing her arms morosely. She knew she shouldn't come here, but the three were unyielding for her to go with them. She just couldn't resist their pleas.

"Hey, where's mine?" Sheila hurtfully stated, believing they had forgotten her.

Grinning widely, the girls yanked out another hat for Sheila and handed it to her. Snatching it, Sheila giddily placed it on her head. She wore the scarf around her neck too, grinning widely. Now, all four girls were dressed in the exact same accessories except for their attire, of course. Three of the girls grinned with each other more before they carried on with their own cheering, cursing someone or whatever. Daphne groaned loudly at the day she was having. This was why she hates Quidditch. She just hoped this day would be over quickly.

* * *

><p>The groans from Puddlemere's fans were perceptible. Clenching his hands tightly together, Harry blew a stray of his hair away, right feet tapping impatiently. It was horrible, the team was getting crushed out there. Montrose Magpies led by 650 to 470, a difference of a hundred and eighty points. It had been going on for an hour and fifty-five minutes now. At first, the game was evenly matched and there was a clear balance between both sides, however, Harry began to doubt Brien Carras's performance. He wasn't playing like he usually did. Harry knew Carras was the oldest member of the team, judging the man was thirty-five years old. Narrowing his eyes at Carras, Harry's eyebrows shot up. He stood up abruptly, marching a quick way to Deverill, shoving a few people away.<p>

"Coach!"

"Not now, kid! Get back to your place, we're in crisis here!" Deverill snapped irritatingly. "If this keeps up, we can kiss the cup farewell!"

Harry scowled in annoyance. "Carras is injured. Can't you see it? It's affecting his performance deeply. Every time he abruptly swerved his broom right, he clutched his right shoulder, wincing. It's seems serious, Coach."

"Good Lord, mother of Merlin, you're right, kid!" Deverill exclaimed after concentrating on Carras for a little while. "It must be those bloody bludgers he got hit earlier on. It was a repetitive multitude combo by the Magpies's beaters. Damn, at a time like this! Those beaters are really good, very good. Great, just what we need! More crisis!" He cursed under his breath, pondering on what to do. "No choice, we have to substitute Carras. If it keeps on, he'll be out of the game for the rest of season and I can't let that happen."

Before the Coach tried to warn the referee, a furious bludger assaulted Carras from the back, knocking him off his broom, causing him to lose the grip of the broom. Lucky for him, the distance wasn't really that high. Still, he must have taken quite a bit of damage from it. The crowds gasped as some stood up from their seats to see what happen to Carras. Time out was called by a bang from the referee's wand after he checked Carras at a closer range. Immediately, the members of Puddlemere rushed to Carras, transporting him to the changing room.

"Carras, Carras! Hey!" Deverill hastened to the man's side, kneeling down. "Can you still play?"

"Sorry, Coach, but I'm out for today. I thought I could keep up just then, but I was wrong," Carras croaked, grimacing at the stinginess in some part of his body. "You have to substitute me, Coach."

"That's okay Carras, you did a brilliant job. Leave this to your teammates." Carras nodded his head.

One of the employees levitated him, transferring him to the infirmary to see the team's healer.

"Coach, what are we going to do?" Jocelind Wadcock breathed heavily. His face was sweaty and his expression was alarm.

Griffiths stepped in front of the group, her face was full of worry. "Coach, if we lose this match, we won't be going to the finals. We already lost one game against Appleby Arrows, so we can't risk another chance of losing."

That's right, they already lost once. Although Puddlemere was leading that time, they still suffered a defeat when the opponent's seeker snatched the snitch. Whispers erupted, whispers of fretfulness in losing the game spread around the room. Deverill put a contemplating face, his forehead scrunched up, with him processing his brain. His eyes slowly descended on Harry, right hand rubbing his chin. Harry's eyes broadened at what the looks insinuated for him to do. Just like that, every person followed the coach's gaze in disbelief.

Wadcock looked somberly from Harry to his coach, unsure on his face. "Coach, you're sure about this?"

"We need the kid..." Deverill nodded his head firmly. "Potter, you're up!"

Harry's face completely drained of color, ashen white. With all those crowds, he wasn't convinced he'd perform excellently. Furthermore, this is a professional level, not like Hogwarts. Roy Raesly, a reserve chaser like Harry, protested this with instant outrage. "What? Coach, are you mad? He's not up for this! I've been holding one of the reserve chasers for four years straight and have way more experience than him! Let me play!"

"Raesly, are you the coach or am I?" Raesly was taken aback by the acid tone from his coach, mumbling his response in a negative answer.

"Good." Deverill grabbed Harry, hauling the boy violently from the horde of the people to have silent conversation.

"Coach, what the hell are you doing?" Harry remarked, face still a bit pale. "I thought we agreed that I'm not playing! I'm not ready for this yet! And now you're tossing me into the real game! Are you freaking insane?"

"I know that, kid. But we can't lose this game, we need your talents to catch up to those points. If we can just score the hoops nine times and then rely on Williams to catch the snitch, we'll win this game. Their seeker ain't that good, Williams can beat him. There's still a chance here and I'm not giving up this game just yet. I also know that without your amazing concentration and fortitude, we won't be able to pull this stunt. You're sharp, very sharp and that's why I chose you. We need this, kid, we need this more than anything to get to the final. Do you understand me, kid?" Deverill's hands grasped each one of Harry's shoulders, shaking his body. "This is also an opportunity for you, not just us but for you as well. This is your time to shine, kid, so get out there and play your best. Have faith in yourself."

Harry compressed his hands into a tight fist, grounding his teeth at the lack of choice. Closing his eyes, he nodded his head shakily, choosing to just get on with it. It's probably not that bad. If he could just overlook the crowds, then he'd be fine. Right, just focus on the game. Oh, who the hell is he kidding? He might be lucky enough to remain on the broom for five minutes!

"Good. Go get your broom, Potter, and demonstrate it to the crowds why you're on Puddlemere's." There's a bang-like sound on someone's wand, indicating the time out was already over, resuming the game once more. "Good luck, kid."

Wadcock handed Harry his broom. "Just be cool and follow the rhythm of our plays, mate." Wadcock's stomach twisted into a bad lurch when Harry wasn't listening to him. Harry was too occupied with his musings and his worry seemed like taking over his emotion. "Potter!" Harry reverted to reality. "Stop worrying so much and let's go!"

* * *

><p>"I can't believe what I'm seeing here, Marv." Arnold commented, clearly surprise, rising up from his seat to get a better view. "Is that a new player on the field? Are you seeing what I'm seeing, Marv?"<p>

"I'm not too sure, Arnold. We have never seen this player in any of the matches before, no less in action. Unmistakably, Puddlemere indeed has some fresh players." Marvin groped through some of the papers that were lying on the desk, searching for the new player identification. "Ah, here it is. Well, I think everyone will want to listen this. This player is actually the youngest player ever to join a professional Quidditch club since 1962. His age is fourteen and to be specific, fifteen this year. He was recruited a month ago by one of Puddlemere's famous scouts, Peter Gandalf. Apparently, this player is so talented with brooms that he was given a proposal to join Puddlemere United nearly in an instant. His name is Harry Potter... Potter? Merlin, he's the brother of the boy-who-lived?"

"I didn't know he had a brother, Marv." Arnold's words boomed throughout the stadium, visibly shocked.

"It appears it's true, Harry Potter is the brother to the boy-who-lived. That is quite a shock and I'm certain everyone in the stadium feels the same."

"Well, whatever, Marv. When I meant fresh player, I didn't mean it literally. This kid is out of his league even if he is the brother to the boy-who-lived. Is this kid even good?"

"We'll just have to witness how good this player is."

"Right you are, Marv. Right you are..."

* * *

><p>"Merlin, Harry gets to play!" Sheila yelled excitedly, her omnicular locked on Harry. "Lucky sod, I wish I'm in his shoes right about now."<p>

Removing her omnicular temporarily, Callista put it on again. "Something is not right with Harry," she asserted this piece of news to her best friends.

"You're right, he's not himself. I've never seen him acting like that." Regine gazed worriedly through the omnicular.

"Now that you two mention it, he's not himself." Sheila was now unease at how Harry was. Currently, he was mounting his broom to join his fellow teammates, but his flying wasn't suave like it usually was. "Hey, do you girls think he's all right?"

"I don't know, Sheila. I just hope he is." Azure eyes gleamed in concern for Harry.

Lowering her omnicular, Daphne nibbled her bottom lip at her assumption. "I think he's nervous... He's going through one of those nervous breakdowns that a player usually undergoes in one of their matches." That statement made all three girls confirming his condition once more.

"He is nervous, really, really nervous," Regine verified, sharing the deep concern of her three friends.

"Oh, Harry, I hope he's going to be all right. I'm not comfortable seeing him in this state. He never showed this side of himself to me before nor have I witness it."

"You're not the only one, Callista," said Sheila, distraughtly. "This is bad. His confidence is nowhere."

"Let's just hope and pray he's going to be fine for the rest of the game…" spoke Daphne, influencing the three girls with positive thoughts.

They're not too confident with her words. All four were too concerned for Harry. In all their times with him, Harry was never like this, troubled and in fear of something. Just watching him like this from afar, really instigated them into wishing to be there with him. At the present, they felt helpless and useless to him for being unable to do anything about the predicament he's in. Now, they simply sat in their seats and contained their worries for him.

* * *

><p>Harry couldn't move, he was frozen, hovering in the air on his Nimbus 2001. The color in his face faded, there was nothing but white on his face, his eyes almost popped out. His hands were shaking like crazy, gripping the handle of the broom. His eyes roamed the whole stadium and gulped audibly at it. When he was on the field, the crowds were much larger than what they appeared to be.<p>

"Potter!" His head moved to the captain in a snail pace. "Just calm down! Just play the game like you always do!" The answer Wadcock got was a rigid nod. That's not a good sign coming from anybody. Putting his focus on the game, he looked ahead of himself. "Here they come, Potter!"

Harry forcefully concentrated his mind on the game, facing to the front. He saw three chasers of the opposing team dashing to the goal post in amazing speed. "Okay, let's use one to one. Wilda, mark the one on the left, Angus Fulber. Potter, yours is on the right, Alasdair Maddock. I'll take care of their captain, Fabius Watkins." Instantly, two older chasers kicked their brooms to their opponents.

Harry looked wildly at the two, panic on his face. At that, the chaser he was supposed to mark, slipped past him easily. "Potter! Don't let him get past you!" Harry snapped at the captain's voice and chased after Maddock. His body was quivering, his flying was not going smooth as he lagged behind the chaser, not able to keep up with the man even if his broom is much faster than the man's Nimbus 2000.

"Potter, the Quaffle! Watkins passed it to Maddock! Get it!" Harry glanced at the Quaffle as it flew to Maddock.

He reached out for the Quaffle, intercepting their pass, but he missed it. Maddock caught it and soared quickly to the goal posts. Harry just stayed in the position, looking very stupid. "Get him, Potter! Your broom is a lot faster than his! Don't let him score!" Hearing that, Harry wobbly raced to Maddock, attempting to steal the Quaffle from the man's possession, but he still fell behind. Maddock, without delaying any time, threw the Quaffle strongly in the direction of the goal posts.

Drawing a sharp breath, Harry watched from afar as the Quaffle slid through the hoop. Keeper Casper Doukas wasn't hasty enough to block the Quaffle from going in. Harry breathed heavily, even if he was in the field for only a few minutes. He looked down, eyes broadened. The groans from the crowds were perceptible and loud for him. His heart was beating riotously. Griffiths flew to his side, "It's okay, Harry, we'll get the next one. Just try your very best in calming down." Harry nodded his head unsteadily, his body was sweating like a pig.

"Forget the last goal and let's begin the assault! We need to boost our morals!" Wadcock hollered, Quaffle in his arm. "Come on!"

With that, two chasers started their attack. Harry shook his head out of his stupor and flew to Wadcock's right side. Wilda was on Wadcock's left side. "Split up and confuse them!" Harry swerved his broom, creating a distance from the captain. The thing was that no one was pursuing Harry, deeming him as no threat to their team. Wadcock endeavored to out-fly two chasers that were tailing him behind, but it was no use. When both locked him on each of his sides, he had no choice other than to pass it to Harry. "Potter!" Harry, in his case, snapped at the voice as the Quaffle directed to him.

It was an easy catch for a chaser, but as Harry endeavored to grab it, it just elapsed from his hand. By now, his nervousness escalated. The crowds cried out loud in disappointment, cursing at the player's stupidity. He breathed more heavily, his body was discharging more sweat, drenching his robe. Coach Deverill wasn't doing too well at the kid's performance and he too moaned at it. That was an obviously easy pass and no one was marking him. It was a catastrophe. The girls and their families weren't doing too good either at what Harry was doing. He wasn't himself. This was humiliating, the biggest humiliation a player ever faced in Quidditch history and with this large of a crowd, it just added more embarrassment.

In spite of thousands of people in the stadium, Harry's sharp eyes suddenly seized a form of a person body on one of the stands. Time seemed to be moving slowly. It was a man, adorned in a white worn ancient-like cloak. Harry's eyes lingered some more on the man. He couldn't identify his face since the hood is concealing the man's face, nonetheless, he saw a smile shaping the man's lips, a creepy enchanting smile. There were wrinkles around the man's lips. Harry blinked his eyes one time in slow motion and just as he reopened his eyes, the man was gone, faded away to somewhere. Harry would've recognized the smile anywhere. The familiar smile he had put up for years. The same smile that made his skin crawl.

"Harry, watch out!" Wilda warned. It was too late when a furious bludger stroke his body directly, pounding him off his broom. Some of the crowds cringed at that hit and Harry Potter fell from his broom, plummeting to the ground with a thud. Both of Magpie's beaters high-fived each other at his fall, smirking and chuckling. Harry's eyes were all blurry, looking at the stadium. Sitting upright, he gritted his teeth, clutching his stomach. He coughed in obvious pain, feeling nausea rise up. It was no good, he wasn't any used to the team. He shut his eyes tightly, wishing to just disappear from the world. In his life, he never felt so humiliated.

_Laughter..._

His brain ripened in maturity the day he turned to five. The very day, he developed an independent streak for himself.

_Laughter..._

Aged six, he was completely forgotten by his parents. They swept his existence as if he was air or dust.

_More laughter..._

Aged seven, he remembered his first time stepping into the outside world without his parents by his side.

_People were laughing while he monitored them from afar..._

Aged eight, he encountered Merlin, having a battle with himself in grasping how the legendary wizard was still alive after all this time.

_Why they were having a fun time without him..._

Aged nine, he was determined for an acknowledgement of his parents.

_He was crying alone in the dark and no one came to get him..._

Aged ten, he gave up on his parents' affection, thinking it was useless to hope.

…

Aged eleven, happiness found him when fate introduced him to four unique girls. First time in six years, he felt content and happy. It was because of them that he was here. Would he just give up on himself because of being nervous? They never gave up on him, no matter what the circumstances were. What will they say if they saw him like this? Come to think of it, they never saw him like this, in a time of weakness.

Still, if they were beside him… Sheila would encourage him to get up. Regine would be worry about his health more. Callista would believe in him all the way. Daphne would support him to the very end. The humiliation be damned! All they care about is just him, their focus was on him, not the humiliation.

He opened his eyes wide and large to the world, reverting himself back to the reality. His head wasn't in pain anymore, his heart wasn't thumping madly anymore, his body wasn't quaking anymore and he wasn't nervous as hell anymore. "Hey, kid!" Harry looked up at the referee who was on the broom. "Are you up to play?" Harry tilted his head at the silly question. "Yeah…" Standing up, he nonchalantly brushed the dirt from his attire and without a care he coolly walked to his broom, mounting up and mildly flew up in the air. He eyed the crowds all around and permitted a smirk to coil his lips.

* * *

><p>"Phillbert! Just give him one more chance!" Gandalf argued hotly. He scuttled over to the Puddlemere's locker room after Harry clambered back to his broom. "He'll do better after this!"<p>

"Forget it, Gandalf! It's clear the kid isn't ready yet! This is an embarrassment to him and to Puddlemere!" Deverill hollered angrily. "I made a big mistake on shoving him into the real match!" The coach waited patiently for Raesly to drop around them. He creased his forehead when his old friend didn't retort back. "Gandalf, why are you-" he ceased his sentences as he tracked what captured Gandalf interest, "Raesly, go back and take a seat…" Deverill absently said. He also noticed the sudden change in Harry's expression.

"But- but Coach, I'm ready!"

"Don't make me repeat myself," Deverill hissed. Raesly scurried back to his previous seat, knowing what's best for him.

* * *

><p>Harry placidly moved to his teammates. "Mate, are you all right?" Wadcock asked, rage no longer clouded his sight at Harry's terrible performance.<p>

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry responded. His eyes weren't bulged anymore, they were half-lidded, darting to Wadcock's eyes. The two older chasers were astounded at this sudden of transformation, it was like Harry swapped himself into someone else and so abrupt too. Harry was ignoring the angry shouts from the crowds, concentrating more on the game. Wadcock shared a look with Wilda and they both nodded their heads.

"All right, Potter, let's try this again. You take on Maddock and the rest of them, leave it to us."

Harry bobbed his head confidently, commanding his broom to it. Both chasers stirred their brooms towards the other chasers, not worried about Harry any longer, even though he was in bad shape just then. It was just seeing Harry changed so suddenly feels like the heavy burden on their shoulders lifted, and now playing without concern of the scores. Watkins didn't waste time and threw the Quaffle swiftly to Maddock, given that it's the fresh player that was the team's main weakness. Wadcock's eyes widened when Harry wasn't marking Maddock.

He was amazed when the Quaffle was effortlessly intercepted by none other than Harry. Smirking more than ever, eyes sparkled maniacally, Harry took off in a rush speed, pushing the broom to its maximum limit. He never did exert this broom to the limit before, so he'd see what it was really capable of, it's true potential. Everyone in the stadium, including the players themselves, was momentarily flabbergasted at the unexpected speed. What Harry did was extreme, very extreme. If anyone was to observe the boy closely, they could see he was enjoying it.

Only when the Magpies's coach shouted to focus on the game did the players snapped out of their reverie.

The beaters swiftly adopted their defensive stances, determined to knock Harry again. Harry, by himself, plunged straight into their defense. Deverill shouted to Wadcock and Griffiths to support the kid. Harry didn't care. His sight was on the goal post. One of the beaters sent the first bludger to disorder Harry's flying and then, the other beater sent the second one. Harry, with a resolve scowl on his face, budged his broom, missing the first one by inches, then reclaimed back his previous position of flying, missing another bludger by inches as well. He rushed past the beaters coolly, discarding their presence there, not retarding his broom from the current high speed.

Of course, that gave another huge shock to everyone, especially how he dodged the bludgers with ease.

Players usually swerved their broom violently, just to escape a furious bludger. Clenching the Quaffle in his right hand tightly, Harry tossed it powerfully. The keeper was prepared for him, but was taken aback at how powerful the throw was, accurate too. He didn't have time to react and it brought about a score to Puddlemere. There was no cheering since the crowds were too astonished by Harry's performance. Harry whizzed back to the defensive, slipping to Wadcock's side. The Puddlemere captain fluttered his eyes at this so as Griffiths, too dumbfounded to even pay a compliment. It didn't look like he required any of their assistance just now.

As the Magpies were not affected by the score, they hastened to score some points for themselves. This time, they changed their tactics by closing in to the goal posts, displaying remarkable teamwork and shaking Puddlemere's defenses. The Puddlemere's beaters, Maxwell Montmerry and Katy Fonger, struggled their best to strike them really hard. Harry just stayed still, eyes tracking them, regardless of how complicated it was. Figuring out their pass in just a nick of time, he intercepted the Quaffle when Watkins released the Quaffle to Fulber.

At that, Harry merely whooshed to the goal posts, not waiting for his teammates. It was second time that everyone got a big surprise coming from the newbie. The opponent's beaters dismissed their shock as they used one of the famous Quidditch tactics, Dopplebeater Defense, not holding back their strength. Both beaters strike the bludgers at the same time, doubling the force. They hurled two bludgers in route to Harry's direction. Harry smirked at this. They were obviously aiming for his head and so in accordance to it, he moved his head coolly to avoid the bludgers, both narrowly missing his face.

He grinned at their looks, their mouths were hanging open. Who did they think they were? He was trained by the most powerful man in the world. No one can compete with his reflexes and instinct. Charging straight up, he bumped both of them by the shoulder at top speed, amazingly knocking both beaters from their brooms. It wasn't illegal, Harry knew that. Not long, there were loud cheers from the crowds at the true performance Harry bestowed upon them. It was spectacular. Harry faked a convincing throw for the keeper and he took it. Harry, then, threw it to the last goal post, scoring again. He smirked arrogantly. That's Sheila signature move.

Harry retreated and recommenced his defensive position. "Great job, Potter! In no time we can score another eight hoops before Williams gets the snitch." Wadcock grinned, excitedly patting the young fellow on the back again and again.

"What do you mean eight hoops? We're going to even the odds." Harry kicked off his broom to Watkins, sneakily stealing the Quaffle. The chasers were too stunned to react as Harry feinted and slammed the Quaffle, passing the Magpies's keeper, scoring yet again. That steal was flawless and the boy did it in a fast speed. "My specialties are stealing and fast attack," Harry informed his other two teammates.

Little by little, a large grin swiped Wadcock's lips. He could feel it, the victory was now in their grasp. The other Puddlemere players shared the same feeling as well. There was no doubt in their minds that they were lucky to have Harry. All around, the crowds were now cheering loudly for Puddlemere. Too caught up in their conversation, three Magpies chasers slithered past their defensive lines, past the beaters as well, darting to the keeper. Shaking out of his stupor, Doukas steeled himself for the attack.

Watkins closed in on the last goal posts on the right and Doukas followed him. The keeper's eyes widened when he realized the Quaffle was not with Watkins. He took the bait. He rotated his neck, just in time to witness Maddock flung the Quaffle to the other goal posts. He couldn't reach that even if he tried it, but a grin split his face when Harry halted the Quaffle from entering the hoop, barely. Harry passed it to Griffiths at once and accelerated his broom to the Magpies' keeper, followed by the rest of the chasers.

Calling out for Harry, Griffiths passed the Quaffle back to him. He seized it without looking at the Quaffle. Dodging the bludgers, he dived suddenly, shrugging off the two chasers behind him. It worked as the chasers were caught by surprise. Veering his broom to the left, he managed to escape Watkins from stealing the Quaffle, but the man was persistent. Harry glanced at him over his shoulder. This time he jerked his broom up the notch.

With the speed, Harry quickly hurled the Quaffle with such force, scoring another for Puddlemere. The crowds were now going crazy, their voices intensified further. The sound around the stadium was deafening, even the voice of the commentators were crushed by the crowds. It's the fourth time

Harry scored and he was on a streak too, not granting the opposing team any possibility to score.

* * *

><p>"What a score from Harry Potter!" Marvin announced. "And, this is his fourth time in a row. It's his first day view and yet he bested every player out there! At first, we see Potter isn't that good, but now we're reconsidering that opinion greatly. What do you think, Arnold?"<p>

"I tell you what, Marv," Arnold drawled in a calm tone before he was on his feet, knocking the chair backward and screamed loudly, "He's bloody brilliant! Did you see how he avoided the bludgers without effort? I mean who is this kid? Where in blue blazes did he come from? He was magnificent, Marv! Words can't even begin to describe it! I take everything that I said about him and just swallow those words! The kid is amazing, never in all my years as a commentator and spectator alike, have I ever witnessed such a performance! I- I-" He slumped back on his seat. "I'm overwhelmed, Marv...overwhelmed by the kid."

"There's no disagreeing with your words, my good friend. Even I'm speechless at the performance he was giving us."

The Magpies's keeper cursed at this, grasping hold of the Quaffle and carelessly pitched it to Watkins. Before anyone could react, Harry came into the view in a blur. He kicked the Quaffle, directing it to one of the hoops, scoring one more for Puddlemere. The referee counted the score given that the game began again when the keeper released the Quaffle from his possession. The crowds went nuts this time, screaming at the top of their lungs and rooting for Harry, not caring about the loss of their vocal box at the end of the day.

"Did you see that, Marv? Did you see that? That was so sudden! It's that really legal?" The magical screen centered on Harry's face. A smirk on his face caused a blow up of delight shrieks from the females. It was irresistible.

"Yes, it was unexpected! Each of us was caught by the surprise. The referee stated that it is legal which means another score for Puddlemere and that's Potter five and Magpies zero. What an incredible young lad! There's no denying anymore, ladies and gentleman, Puddlemere have found a very talented player, youngest player ever to play in professional Quidditch matches and that is, Harry Potter!" The crowds burst to cheer in a barbaric manner.

* * *

><p>Back at the Greengrass special stand, they were also cheering like the rest of the crowds. They were no longer distressed by his rather eccentric episode and behavior. Astoria was rooting loudly for her huge crush, on her father's shoulders, screeching Harry's name. Her father didn't mind this at all, merely glad he came for the game. They both were joined by Ethan and Nathan, the twins, chanting their idol's name annoyingly. Noah, for his part, was all sulky, though clapped his hands absentmindedly and was awed when Harry performed his position as a chaser marvelously. The rest also cheered for Harry.<p>

Elizabeth was worried about Harry's well-being at first, nearly telling William to get Harry out of the field, but found herself enjoying the game as it progressed. It was the first Quidditch game she ever found entertaining. William and Sheila's fathers were acting childishly, cheering for the game. Both led their wives to shake their heads at how their husbands were. Where's their pureblood mannerism? Callista's parents were more fascinated by how the playing was, discovered it to be more brutal than most of Muggle sports. Regine's parents were trying to soothe their youngest sons, but to no avail, as the twins kept running around the stand, chanting their idol's name.

Of course, the girls were in high-spirits now.

"Yeah, Harry! Show them what you got!" screamed Sheila, thrusting her hands in the air, almost slapping Daphne's face in the process.

"Go Harry! Kick their butts!" Callista was clapping her hands non-stop, smiling widely.

"Don't give up, Harry!" Regine yelled, her hands around her mouth, trying to amplify her voice. It was pointless as the crowds proved larger.

"Yeah, that's right, Potter! Show them no mercy! Don't give them any chances! Humiliate them! Rip them apart! Tear them to pieces! Crush their bones into ashes! Let them soak by their own blood!" Daphne shouted with a serious expression, her forehead was crunching. There was an eerie silence in their stand as all eyes affixed on Daphne, even the twins looked at her with wide eyes, no longer running. Daphne terminated her own cheer and quirked an eyebrow at all of them.

"What?" she said indifferently. "You have to admit, even I have a hard time in not succumbing to the temptations on cheering him... It's not like anyone is going to hear me, right?"

The hat Sheila was wearing slipped from her head and fell to the ground. Callista slackened her grip on the omnicular and it dropped down. Regine collapsed to her seat, almost squished her owl with her butt. Luckily, the owl flapped its wings hastily to get out of there. Hell must be frozen.

* * *

><p>After Harry recovered from his breakdown, he went all out against the Magpies, not holding back. It was a tough play, the toughest Harry ever faced in his entire Quidditch career. Though he kept scoring, it was still hard for him to lose the chasers and evade the bludgers at the same time. They were marking him persistently, as they recognized him to be a serious danger to their team. Even so, Puddlemere gained an upper hand as the scores were now 710 to 590. Still though, the Magpies were in the lead.<p>

Now, thirty-five minutes had passed, and yet the snitch was still not in the spectacle.

With no such luck, Williams had been searching for it the whole game. Striving for the Quaffle in Fulber's custody, he efficiently stole it causing the chaser to be fuming at Harry's successful attempt. He'd been doing that a lot in the match. The spectators cheered noisily in approval. They now knew Harry Potter was good at robbing the Quaffle without fouling. He, then, charged to the other side of the goal post, resolved to score more points. The Magpies's beaters were ready and they surrounded Harry, back and the front, striving to match his speed. They were furious with Harry now, incensed by the kid. Harry had to slow down when one of the beaters was blocking his path.

Immediately, they began their furious assaults against him. First, the front beater attacked him with a bludger and Harry budged his broom to sidestep from it. Subsequent to it, his eyes broadened when his senses told him about another attack from his back. He swiftly moved his head to the left, evading the bludger. He cursed to himself as his eyes widened more when the bludger returned back to him from the front. He ducked his head, dodging it. He dove abruptly downward when the same bludger assaulted him from the back. This was an impressive combo coming from the beaters and getting rid of them was tricky and challenging.

The commentators commented that Harry was in a tight situation but complimented him for the remarkable evasion of the bludger. Inhaling a huge breath, he took some risks. Sensing the bludger was about to attack him, he increased the broom's speed instead of avoiding the bludger like usual. Just as he was about to collide with the beater, who was blocking and in front of him, he performed a perfect Sloth Grip Roll, hanging upside down on his broom, shirking the bludger along the way. The beater didn't have time to deflect the bludger and he got smacked in the face by it. Harry smirked at this, chuckling slightly. The spectators roared, applauding at how igneous and devilish of him.

Still, hanging upside down, he simply zoomed to the goal posts. He chucked the Quaffle to the hoop. He did that in the middle of switching back to his normal flying position. He pumped his fist in the air once he scored again, celebrating for a short while. He flew back to his captain's side, bumping their fists together. He was aware Griffiths's breath was labored and Harry comprehended that it couldn't go on like this forever. The match had to end now. He averted his attention from the Quaffle and strayed his eyes throughout the stadium in search for the snitch. His eyes flashed and locked onto a golden snitch.

"Williams!" Harry shouted amidst the cheers. "The snitch is behind you!"

Williams' eyes bugged at that statement, whirling his broom around to catch the snitch. The snitch, though, was making it difficult for Williams as it shot away from the seeker. With a roar of a lion, Williams stretched out his one hand painfully for the snitch, just about to be in the palm of his hand, a little more. A heavy black bludger came pelting towards Williams. Gritting his teeth, the man continued to stick on the snitch no matter what, not drifting away. His eyes were as large as a tennis ball when the bludger grew closer. Out of the blue, he was saved by a hand, blocking the bludger from assailing him. It hit the person's forearm, smashing it. The crack was evident, perceiving the sound of a bone being shattered.

The bludger was, then, repelled to another direction. Williams was somewhat astonished to discover it was Harry Potter who saved him.

"The snitch!" Harry gasped the words, wincing at the searing pain he was in. His left arm was dangling uselessly at his side. Williams was touched at the sacrifice and he didn't let Harry down as he seized the snitch in a quick action, more determined than ever. The match ended by 740 to 710 with Puddlemere in the lead. Every person in the stadium rose from their seats and cheered at this, went wild at the unexpected end, with the birth of a new player who had created a new history of Quidditch. Harry, for his case, got mauled by his teammates once his feet touched the ground, hugging him enthusiastically. Harry endeavored in prying them away from him, more careful of his injured arm.

He groaned loudly when many more came sprinting to greet his winnings. He had to sidestep an excited jumping hug from Gandalf. The coach was grinning at him widely which freaked him out since he only got to see the man's gruff expression all the time. His cheeks got kissed by Griffiths and the beater, Fonger. He blushed a little at that, scowling at the affections. Then, before he knew it, he was lifted by Wadcock and Williams, treating him like a king and putting him on their shoulders. He was surprised at this as they all cheered his name. Absently, he brought his injured arm to his chest. The magical screen now directed to Harry, enlarging his form.

His arm that was throbbing in pain at the moment was completely forgotten due to many people greeted him, accompanied with many flashes and flicking noises nearby. The flashes of the cameras were blinding his eyes, however, he didn't bother to shield his eyes from it. The reporters began clicking madly when the people started throwing his body up in the air. Harry was truly flabbergasted with all the treatment he was receiving, didn't know how to react. He didn't even panic when he was being thrown in the air again and again. All his brain processed was that it would be a very long night and the following day would be a fucked up day.


	11. Chapter 10, Season 2

**Chapter 10.**

**31 July 1992.**

True to Harry's words, the next day was indeed a fucked up day. All across the British Wizarding World, the early morning was in an uproar. People, who were drowsy, fully awaken once they laid their eyes on the newspaper. Just as the people perusing the newspaper, they got one of the most bombshell news of their lives. Most of the Daily Prophet's paper was covered and littered with titles on Harry Potter. There were images of him, details and articles regarding him. Quibbler was no different as it was fully packed about Harry Potter.

HARRY POTTER, BROTHER TO THE BOY-WHO-LIVED BRINGS PUDDLEMERE UNITED TO THE FINAL!

THE YOUNGEST QUIDDITCH PLAYER EVER RECORDED IN THE HISTORY!

UNEXPECTED QUIDDITCH PERFORMANCE FROM A FOURTEEN YEAR OLD BOY!

And, the articles from various writers harped on and on…

They specified more often than not on how Harry intervened in the game and altered it upside down, how Harry was the sole reason why Puddlemere won the game that night, how he sacrificed his arm for victory, full description of the matches, etc. That day it was the talk of Harry Potter in the British Wizarding World, children, teenagers and adults, all alike. People who were not fascinated and enamored by Quidditch, even conversed about an extraordinary feet of a fourteen year old boy, whom was so young, but now playing for Puddlemere United, a professional Quidditch team. It was that day everyone recognized the name Harry Potter. The boy's fame spread like a wildfire at such fast rate in just one day.

* * *

><p>In Diagon Alley, those who knew Harry Potter as little Harry were astonished to spot the image of the boy they once knew in a newspaper, the same adorable little boy that scurried around and doing many errands for the sellers in Diagon Alley. They were astounded because he was playing Quidditch in the professional level, however, the shock didn't equal to the last one when they realized his last name was actually Potter, it merely escalated the feeling to a further extent. This was something that swept them off their feet, completely bowled over by the news.<p>

Because of that piece of news, some forgot to put an 'Open' sign in their own shop windows as they zoned off about their little Harry. And that day, people were bewildered as to why most shops in Diagon Alley were closed and to that day was where businesses weren't really successful. Even the famous Leaky Cauldron was shut as both landlord and landlady of the place were too consumed on their thoughts concerning little Harry. Thankfully, the situations were solved once they shook out of their daze and properly opened their shops, though it was reported on noon at that time of the day.

* * *

><p>Minerva McGonagall, along with a few of her colleagues, was having a peaceful breakfast in the Great Hall.<p>

Additionally, Filius Flitwick and Pomona Sprout were there as well. Most of the staff vacated Hogwarts during summer, taking care of their 'stuff'. It was one of these days that McGonagall wasn't too stressed in dealing with troublesome students. No roguish students were around in Hogwarts during the summer. She didn't have to erect her best stern expression all the time. She was sipping her black coffee serenely, awfully relaxed. The arrival of Dumbledore and the headmaster occupied his customary seat next to her, she didn't heed it. The sound of owls flocking their wings, shipping the newspapers to them, she disregarded it. Sniffing the aroma of coffee in the morning, she allowed a tiny smile worked its way to her lips, a smile that normal people fail to spot, even if they try their best to see it.

She transferred her attention to the newspaper that was in Dumbledore's hands. Mildly slurping her coffee, her eyes wandered the headline, absently marveling what nonsense propaganda Daily Prophet wrote this time. Validating the title, she bobbed her head calmly. Closing her eyes fully, she continued to drink her coffee with the tiny smile was still there. In such a slow pace, her brain processed and processed yet again. It clicked to her in an abrupt fashion. Opening her eyes instantaneously, she swiftly inspected the headline again. Eyes popped, she spewed out all of her coffee on Dumbledore's face, tainting the headmaster's white robe, white hat and white beard with black. Her favorite precious student was on Daily Prophet!

A motion picture of him getting thrown into the air again and again by the crowd was on the front page.

Totally missing the sour look from Dumbledore, she snatched her own copy of Daily Prophet and scanned the article thoroughly. She didn't bother to wipe her mouth with a napkin and her mouth dribbled with black coffee. This was the first time that Daily Prophet ever captured the full attention of one Minerva McGonagall. Swiping the paper to the next page, there was her favorite pupil again. This time, it was an image of him flying on a broom, executing such an extreme flight. She flipped to the next page, and there was another article about Harry. The articles on the subject of Harry Potter concluded on page eight. With a snail's pace, she lowered the newspaper from her face and simply gazed upfront, eyes glazed.

McGonagall was in a trance for the longest time of her life, not caring someone had to witness her in such state. This expression was mirrored by the rest of her colleagues when they read the paper except for the headmaster. Fortunately, they hadn't drank or eaten something as they read the paper. Snape had entered the Great Hall to partake breakfast. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of the staff. After grunting and scoffing, he billowed his cloak loosely and silkily slithered his way to his usual seat, next to Dumbledore. Scowling in distaste at the unprofessionalism of his colleagues, he sipped his own coffee. By accident, his black beady eyes glided to the newspaper in front of Dumbledore. And suffice to say, that day was where Dumbledore would regret having to dress in all white clothes. It was one of those times in his life that he was stressed at the image of the leader of light.

Moreover, the leader of light had his own personal grudge to anything that's associated with black coffee, classifying it as his new nemesis.

* * *

><p>Sirius Black groaned at the hangover he was suffering at the moment. He didn't remember much about what had happened the night before. All he ever recalled was having a wonderful time with some lovely girl. As he squinted his eyes, he looked around, coming across himself in the Grimmauld master bedroom. Vaguely, his memory recollected of Remus bringing him home last night and dragging him to bed. He shook his head to clear the hangover. It only worsened the headache. He wobbly rose to his feet, and commanded his legs to walk, intending to join Mooney downstairs.<p>

He knew where that Werewolf was at that particular moment. He was having breakfast like usual. The two of them had been living in Grimmauld Place for many years. He convinced Remus to live with him in Grimmauld just so they can be close with the Potters and one of it was he didn't like living alone in his childhood home. Initially, the Werewolf refused the offer, but yielded to his friend's efforts on wishing for him to stay in the British Wizarding World. Remus was reluctant on leaving his friends behind anyway, so that's probably one of the major reasons why he chose to stay.

"Mooney..." Sirius whined, lugging his feet down the stairs, holding the railings to keep him steady. "Where are you? I got a major headache here. Help me, would you?"

Remus sighed from the kitchen at the sight of his friend. He was about to read the newspaper from Daily Prophet, but held back since Sirius barged in. Understanding this, he went to make tea for Sirius to lessen that hangover of his. If he requested Kreature to do it, the elf just cursed him and ignored his order. That elf was useless around Grimmauld. The only time he obeyed was when Sirius gave him a stern firm command.

"Padfoot, how many times I have to tell you? That is what happens when you get a hangover, drinking too many Firewhiskey. Just stop while you're ahead. Instead of taking your job as an Auror seriously, you fooled around with some girl… How professional of you."

Sirius grumbled, taking a seat and dropped his forehead on the table. "Yeah, yeah, spare me the lecture, would you?"

Remus put a cup of tea next to Sirius. Peeking one eye at the cup, Sirius straightened his back, sitting upright. Taking the handler of the cup, he slurped the tea hastily. He yelped when it burned his tongue. He loosened his grasp on the cup and it crashed down. The content sprawled on the table. He glared at his old friend in front of him who was reaching out for the newspaper. His tongue was red and hot. Remus just rolled his eyes.

"Tea is supposed to be hot, Padfoot. You're not careful enough."

Sirius glared, but pitifully moaned some more given that how his headache hadn't minimized one bit. Shaking his head, Remus flipped the newspaper, opening it to read the front page. His half-lidded eyes gradually broadened as he followed every word of it. His eyes bugged out when his eyes dipped down to the image. He unconsciously gaped at seeing this, not believing it, though the truth laid in front of his eyes. He was speechless, no sound emitted from his mouth. Sirius looked up, his chin was on the table. He scrunched his forehead at the expression of his best mate. Calling out his name a few times didn't catch the man's attention, and he decided to just seize the newspaper, wondering what could cause Remus to be like that. He chuckled slightly, envisaging Daniel was on the front page. But that wasn't much of surprise, was it?

Though, once he laid his gaze on the paper, his own face matched to Remus's. He shook his head violently, thinking he was imagining things and the hangover surely had to be the reason of it. When the title, the motion picture and the article of the newspaper is still the same, the paper simply dropped on the table. His godson, Harry Potter was on the news but that's not all, he was playing for Puddlemere! The Puddlemere United! A wave of guilt coursed to his body. He never did treat Harry right all this years. His attention was always on Daniel and Harry was supposed to be his godson. Looking at the newspaper again, he nodded his head resolutely. He was determined to make up to Harry. His hangover by now had fully vanished.

* * *

><p>The boy, who was responsible to the chaos ensued all over the British Wizarding World, was peacefully snoozing in his bed.<p>

Softly snoring, his whole form was engulfed by a thick blanket. There was no sight of him, not counting his left arm hanging outside of the bed. The party the night before resulted with him coming home at a very late hour. Following Harry's return to the Potter mansion the previous night, he didn't waste time to go to his room. If it weren't for most of his teammates insisting on him to remain and celebrate with them, he would have gone home straight after fixing his left arm with the healer. He just had to go through the party out of politeness. Of course, his blissful sleep was typically disrupted by a small figure. Since Harry was too exhausted to even bother locking his door last night, a small raven haired girl entered his room with no difficulty.

The girl cutely scowled at her brother for still sleeping at this time of hour.

It became a routine for her to wake him every day during the summer. She knew her bigger brother was very busy during the summer, and it felt as if she was obligated to wake him from his slumber. She didn't mind much, seeing it as an opportunity to spend time with her bigger brother more. He never played with her, not even once, unlike her other big brother, but she understood her bigger brother, Harry. He's just busy, that's all. The other was she identified her bigger brother as a type of a person that didn't enjoy playing around with some dolls. For the very least, he always bought her dolls after another year of Hogwarts and also, he took every opportunity to spend time with her whenever he had some free time.

"Hawwy! Wakey!" She pouted, that was irresistibly endearing and lovable, when the figure didn't show any kind of response. Holding onto the two flowers in one hand, her other hand extended to the front to tug his left arm.

"Rosaline, go away... Five more minutes…" Harry grumbled sleepily, reclaiming his arm.

She huffed at this and settled on with the same schedule. She clambered easily to his bed. She scowled yet again when her brother hadn't wake up from her action. Settling on for the alternate option, she began to jump up and down on his bed, more like on his body. She was, at first, desiring to rouse her brother up with such technique, but then the joy rushed to her. She giggled happily, squealing gleefully. Her objective was far forgotten as the enjoyment clouded her mind.

"Okay, okay, I'm up!" Harry groaned drowsily, surfacing from the sheet. His hair was a complete mess. He yawned widely, stretching his arms lazily. "Now, get off me and get out of my room. You're making my room smelly right now." Harry pretended to grimace, pinching his nose securely.

Rosaline, for her case, was quaking in anger. "Rosy is not a troll!" Her face was covered with the color of red.

"I didn't say anything about a troll." Harry smirked, no longer asleep. "So you admit you're a troll, Rosaline?"

"NO! Rosy is not!"

Seeing his brother's smirk lengthened, she screamed angrily and lunged forward to her brother, pouncing his chest with her tiny arms repetitively. Nonetheless, Harry proved to be stronger as he subdued his baby sister effortlessly with just one arm, laughing heartily at her fruitless attempts. Her anger melted, staring curiously at his brother. She beamed at this. She didn't know how he cleansed the anger out of her with just his laughter, but she was happy to witness her slightly cold brother laughing. It warmed her heart. Harry, little by little, stopped laughing.

"All right, you had your fun. Now, get out. I need to prepare the day ahead of me." She nodded her head perkily, ready to dash out of his room, although not before handing Harry one single flower. Harry took it, gazing confusedly at his baby sister. "What's this for?"

"Happy Burthday, Hawwy!" Harry had nearly mistaken the word 'Burthday' as 'Buttday'. Thankfully, he was in the right state of mind. The little girl kissed her brother's right cheek sloppily. "This is Rosy present!" She held another single flower in front of Harry, showing it to him. "This is for Danny!"

Harry was stunned and didn't get the chance to say anything. Before Harry could utter a word, his baby sister scurried out of his room, shrieking gleefully. Placing his left hand on his right cheek on where his sister kissed him, he looked down at the small flower in his right hand. Evidently, the flower came from the back of the Potter mansion. His sister must have plucked it from the garden. Raising the flower up, he twirled the flower slightly in between his fingers. Not much of a gift, but he greatly appreciated his sister effort.

He looked up, and that was when he noticed the many gifts on his desk. Flapping his eyes in mild shock, he attended to it. It felt like Christmas had approached again. He wondered how all of these presents landed in his room without alerting anyone in the mansion. There were two notes amongst all of the presents. He picked two of them and read the first parchment. After a few seconds, he grumbled in annoyance, burning the parchment to ashes casually. He should have known the old man was the instigator on all of this. He didn't dare question the old man on how in the world he managed all of this. It just increased the annoyance he was presently in if he did so.

In the first parchment, the old man congratulated him of his recent achievements and wished him a very happy birthday. He even drew an emoticon in it and it was magnificently very well drawn. Not to mention, the drawing was in motion to which it got on Harry's nerves. Still, he couldn't resist the small smile on his lips. The very least, years of living didn't affect the old man's memory. After that, he averted his full attention to the next parchment. Instantly, a surge of happiness streamed throughout his body. He didn't try to repress the smile on his lips this time. The smile that coiled on his lips was wide and his face lightened up. It was from the girls, saying the gifts are from them and a few from their families. Now this, he should have known. He looked outside through the window, drifting off to space.

He didn't care if it was fated or coincidence for him to encounter the girls, because right here and now he realized he couldn't survive the world without them by his side. He blinked his eyes one time and then the second time, realization punched him. Eyes widening dramatically, he hastened to the bathroom. "Shit! I'm fucking late! The coach is going to have my head as a trophy when he finds out!" was one explanation as to the reason why he acted in such a way. Even though they won last night, Deverill made it clear to his players that all must attend the training session on the next day, in preparation for the final game. Considering Harry overslept, he was so going to be punished for this.

* * *

><p>Lily Potter was clueless in what was happening around the British Wizarding World.<p>

She busied herself in the kitchen to make some breakfast. She made it extra large just to be sure. She knew it was her son's birthday so the Weasleys might swing by to celebrate it. She gradually ceased in stirring the cooking pot once she realized it was actually her sons' birthday, not one but two sons. She sealed her eyes tightly, repressing the tears from coming out of her eyes. She was pathetic. All she had ever done this summer was shedding tears after another memory of Harry plunged to her mind. She tried talking to Harry, but he was never home. He would leave in the early morning and then would come home late. She didn't get a chance to talk to him, and the same goes for James. What's more he was avoiding them purposely.

He offered a fake smile when he bumped into one of them and hastily created some silly reason just to stay away from them. He didn't even let them do the talking before he just swiftly went to the fireplace or vanished from their sight. Lily figured he's uncomfortable in their presence. Her heart tightened painfully at the mere thought of it. No children had ever felt uncomfortable with their mother before. She would continue ignoring her surroundings if it weren't for James stepping in the kitchen. "Lily!" She snapped at the sound of her name. James sprinted over to her, lending her his aid frantically. Casting a charm first on the stove, he held Lily, hands on her shoulders. He maneuvered her away from the stove onto a chair for her to take a seat.

"What's wrong, Lily? Are you feeling well?" James kneeled in front of her and his hand patted comfortingly over hers.

"Did you know today is Harry's birthday as well?" Instead of answering him, she questioned him.

He averted his eyes from his wife, no longer amusing himself with her hands. "Yeah, I'm quite aware of that this morning."

Out of the blue, Lily chuckled mirthlessly. "I'm a horrible mother... You know that, right, James? I'm really a horrible mother."

"No, you're not, Lily..."

"Oh come on, James," she barked, arguing him fiercely. "What kind of mother forgets her own children especially her first son, huh? Tell me, James? What kind of mother is that? I always thought Harry was my life. I always thought of him as my world, that he was the source of my happiness, that he was the only thing that mattered to me. Everything in this mansion revolved around Harry once. Back then, I never let him out of sight, not even once. But now, look around us, he isn't here with us anymore. He's been taking care himself all this time. How in Merlin's name he does that, I don't know. All I know, he's not close to me, he's a stranger to me and he's been pushing me away even though I try to enter his life, even when I try to get to know him once more, he's just... I- I..." she choked her words, powerless to carry on. In its place, it swapped to sobs.

James rose up and hugged his distraught wife, soothing her. "Shh... We'll discuss this later, okay? The Weasleys are here right now so it's best to not let them see you sad. It will spoil the mood. I promise Harry will come around. If he doesn't, then we'll just do our hardest to get him to. I'm sure we can think of something." He rubbed the back of his wife, reassuring her gently.

Lily detached herself from James, wiping her tears, sobbing slightly. "Y-you're right… We just have to try our hardest..."

James smiled slightly, pecking her lips affectionately. "That's right. People won't call us a stubborn couple if we don't. We won't give up on Harry."

"Yes, we won't." She calmed herself, taking a huge breath.

"Good, then let's just get on with the day and hopefully Harry will stay at home." James smiled, planting another kiss on her lips. She deepened the kiss, inserting her tongue slightly. Breaking it, she continued on with the cooking, leaving her unsatisfied husband behind. James watched Lily, his eyes saddened for a moment at the thought of Harry, however, he steeled himself professionally. He couldn't alter the past, but he could move on. He, then, exited the kitchen and went to the living room to greet the visitors.

* * *

><p>In the Potter mansion, it was packed with people bustling around the place. All gathered in the living room, conversing and doing other things with each other. Hermione even came to the mansion for the first time to celebrate Daniel's birthday. The first thing she talked with Daniel about was how fascinating the fireplace was and how it worked. If it weren't for Ron, she would persist on with her ranting about different kinds of things that were related to magic. The kids were grouping together somewhere in the room including Percy without much of a choice, and in the meantime, the adults were having their own conversations. Well, James was trying to entertain the adults, talking about various insignificant things.<p>

All of this was interrupted by a sound as fire lit up from the fireplace. The flame of a vivid green blared, followed by the voice of Sirius appearing from it. Inwardly, James sighed, having to talk with the Weasley adults long enough and he nearly ran out of ideas of what to say to them. He rushed to the fireplace to greet his best mate. They chatted a bit through the fireplace. James, then, invited Sirius to the Potter Mansion, along with his other best mate, Remus. They flooed to the mansion, and two men were immediately assaulted by Daniel and Rosaline.

Sirius barked a laugh at this. "Easy squirts, you two are getting bigger by the day." Rosaline cheered happily at this, while Daniel scowled a bit at how his uncle addressed him. Squirt is the same as brat, doesn't it? By that, it reminded him of his brother calling him that moniker. To Daniel, it's infuriating. Sirius steered two Potters to Remus, allowing them to acknowledge their other uncle.

Directly, he proceeded to James, asking excitedly, "So where's the champ? Have you seen him around?"

James was puzzled at this, wondering who. "Um… Come again, Sirius. Who are you talking about? All of the sudden too…"

"You know who I mean, James. I'm talking about Pup!" Given that James still didn't catch this, Sirius sighed. And they say he was the slow one among the Marauders. "Harry! I'm talking about Harry, James."

"Harry?" James trailed his line, flabbergasted Sirius brought him up.

He didn't get much chance to quench his surprise. "What do you want with him?" Ron blurted out, his tone sounded rather repulsed. All eyes trained on him and he shifted uncomfortably on his seat at the attention.

"What do you want with Harry, Sirius?" This time a new voice surfaced in the living room. Lily walked to her husband's side, stunned as well that Sirius brought her elder son up. Usually, he came to the mansion just for two of her younger children.

"You two didn't know?" Remus interjected, now confused and mildly shocked.

"Know what?" pressed James.

"Merlin, you two really didn't know?" Sirius exclaimed. He eyed all the people around him. "All of you?"

"Sirius Black, just get to the point!" Molly snapped, irritated with the suspense.

"Didn't all of you read the Dailey Prophet this morning?" said Sirius.

Molly shook her head, sending a disapproving glance toward him. "The Daily Prophet only writes a bunch of lies, nonsense all of them. They never wrote the truth and so it's rubbish to read the paper every day. Don't tell me you believe every word of the paper?"

"Well, to us, it's definitely real. There is no way they're going to write something big as this, just for lies. People in Diagon Alley have been talking about it non-stop! It's the talk of the day!" Sirius answered. "Remus and I also confirmed the truth from many people who had actually been there and saw it for real, not fake. Right, Remus? And hey, did you all know many shops closed in Diagon Alley today? I wonder what's wrong with that."

Remus nodded his head solemnly, holding Rosaline in his arms. "I would've thought, James, that you and Lily would know of this from the very beginning. I- I guess not."

"Molly, be quiet!" Lily snapped at Molly who was about to open her mouth yet again, her anger already rising up. The older woman was appalled and shocked at being told to be silent. "Tell me what this is about and end this silly delay right now or else you both will have a taste on my hexes! I'm sure you two remember that quite fondly."

Two men swallowed audibly at this, knowing how the conclusion of the day was once Lily's temper unleashed and it never ended well. "I think everything will make sense if you people just read Daily Prophet," Remus spoke up bravely.

Dropping Rosaline to the ground gently, Remus summoned the newspaper. He tapped his wand on the paper and it duplicated itself into many. He levitated it and handed each of the paper to the people. He was even considerate enough to let the kids know of the news excluding Rosaline. She may be a bright girl, but she was still incapable of reading anything yet. There was peculiar silence from them as both men surveyed their expression on the news. The silence fractured when Lily's breath hitched and the paper on her hands slipped out of her grasp, her eyes were large as a saucer.

"Bloody hell, he's playing-"

"-for Puddlemere United!"

"That means he's now-"

"-A Quidditch superstar!"

Both Weasley twins looked at each other with wide eyes, before a huge grin elicited from their lips. "Wicked!" Truth to be told, they don't have any ill-feelings with Harry, more like they admired him. Even they have to admit, they were nowhere near the guy's level. He's not only talented in roughly anything, but he also managed to surround himself with four beautiful girls. To think they both were constantly chasing after Sheila like most of the Gryffindors, struggling to get near her at the first chance they got when Harry was already close to her more than they imagine it.

Percy was glowering heatedly at the picture in front of the Daily Prophet. No matter how hard he tried, this guy bested him in every direction and now the guy is beyond his reach. Beside him is his younger brother, Ron. His jaw was hanging wide open and eyes nearly popped out of his skull. His eyes sparkled dangerously in pure jealousy. He was in denial that the guy he loathed is now a famous Quidditch superstar. Next to Ron is Hermione who wasn't much surprised of the news since she found Quidditch next to being nothing.

Conversely, she was impressed because this signified Harry as more of a celebrity now. Currently, she focused herself on his image rather in short distance, blushing how good he looked in a Puddlemere uniform and by the looks of it, he grew more attractive than the last time she saw him. Ginny, the youngest Weasley, was now torn on whom to like. The guy in Dailey Prophet is the boy-who-lived's brother and he was more like a prince, a very dashing prince that a little of his features can consider to be femininely beautiful. On the other hand, she's been so caught up with stories about the boy-who-lived since she was little. She didn't know who to choose.

Daniel, for his part, was shocked, but not so much. He suspected his brother was up to something this summer, but he never had the idea of his brother playing for a professional Quidditch team crossed his mind. Rosaline was beside him, cheering at the image of Harry. She pointed her finger at the picture giddily, shrieking her brother's name, notifying the people Harry was on the paper. Of course, people knew that already. That's just how kids react when they discovered the person they love is on the news.

"Dear lord, playing Quidditch for a professional team at such young age?" Arthur Weasley breathed, his eyes swiftly scanned the paper. "He must be good in broom and brilliant in Quidditch."

"You have no idea, Dad," Fred muttered, reading the paper.

"Yeah, he's very skillful. In our time as beaters, we never landed a single bludger on him! Can you all believe that? Never! Not even once! If we concentrated on attacking him throughout the whole game, he just used it as his advantage!" said George, doing the same thing as his twin brother. "There's no loophole on the guy. He's the reason why Wood pushed us in training."

"I agree, dear brother of mine. He's just too good for us," Fred assented.

"You couldn't say it better than I do, oh, twin brother of mine."

"Sirius, is this for real?" James shouted. Truly, he was astounded as much as his wife was.

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. "You see it with your own eyes, James. It's true, all right. Yeah, your expression is the same as mine was when I first read it."

* * *

><p>Harry was scurrying his legs to the direction of the fireplace, clearly unmindful of the event occurring in the mansion or around the whole British Wizarding world. All he cared about was being at the training field before Deverill arrived first. Luckily, he didn't forget his own Puddlemere badge. He was buttoning his shirt up in such a rush manner. His custom brown coat was dangling on his right forearm and his Ascot hat was tucked inside one of his jeans' back pockets. Releasing an aggravated sigh that he unable to fasten up the two buttons of his shirt, he abandoned it, ignorant to how girls were affected by this kind of appearance. He reached for his hat and then placed his coat around his body.<p>

He scampered to the living room, absently wondering why he didn't encounter any of the occupants in the mansion along the way.

Still adjusting his coat properly, he entered the living room. As he turned to the corner, he abruptly froze in his steps. Both of his eyebrows shot up at how many people were inside the room. Pressing his lips together tightly, he scowled slightly as eyes were on him. It was making him enormously uncomfortable. The silence was awkward and not a single person uttered a word. The silence was ruined when Rosaline, oblivious to all of it, scampered to greet him. She was calling out for his attention and when she succeeded, she showed him the newspaper. She had stolen the paper from Daniel and dashed to Harry. She cheered at this, giddily pointing her finger on the paper.

Now, Harry knew why he was the cause of the silence. Unconsciously, he sighed stressfully at the fact that he had to cope with all of them to get to the fireplace. He smiled a little to his sister as she broke into cheering, running circles around him. She was so cute. Nonetheless, he didn't have time for all of this. Stopping his sister in the middle of it, he just muttered to her that he was in a hurry and that he would see her later. Ignoring everything, he hastened past all of them.

Lily broke out of her haze. "Harry!" He nearly groaned. He's so not in the mood for this. "Why didn't you tell us anything about this?" She gestured her words to the front page of Daily Prophet.

He clicked his tongue from saying something impetuous. Confronting them, he smiled convincingly. "I thought it would be nice for a surprise." A slight sarcasm was noted. He put his hat on and regulated his dark brown coat.

Before she responded to his answer, she was cut off. "I can't believe you're making decision without consenting this to any of us. You're too young to participate in something like this! What are you thinking, young man? This is unacceptable!"

Harry's eyes twitched, irritation built up as he didn't want to face this today. What is she, his mother? If Harry transcript her true meaning, it would be like why didn't he asked her permission? This is why he disliked the woman, more like a plump domineering wench. She presumed that she had the right to tell people what to do or not, simply placing authority over anyone.

"A little teenage rebellion sometimes is a nice change and the fact that I've been making decisions for myself ever since I was a child does explain the whole thing. I've gotten used to being independent, Mrs. Weasley, and that is why I forgot to asked your permission-" He coughed deliberately. "I mean the adults' permission, which whom all have been wonderful to me in these past years and had done a very good job on taking care of me. You know how habit is? It's hard to tone it down once a person get used to it. Though enlighten me a moment here as to why I have to ask yours since you have nothing to do with me whatsoever. Don't tell me you want to control over me? Of course not, that would be silly," he spoke mordantly, smirking. His voice was full of innocence. His words made a huge impact on the adults. He cheerfully brightened after that. "Well, don't let me spoil on whatever you're all doing." In his mind, he already did spoil the mood, but that was his intention from the beginning. "I'm late for something anyway. Farewell for today and have a pleasant day to you all."

The glittering powder was on his right hand. He grabbed it while not one of them noticed. His movements were too fast for them. Sneakily, he threw the powder to the fireplace. When he cried out of his destination, he caught everyone's interest once more. At this, Lily tried to talk to him but didn't get the opportunity as he walked to the green flames, pretending that he didn't heard someone yelling out his name. However, it was hard for him to not hear it since so many people were shouting out his name. The Potter adults, Sirius and Remus stared at the fireplace as did everyone.

"So when are we going to eat? I'm hungry," said Ron.

* * *

><p><strong>2 August 1992.<strong>

The thunderous sound from the crowds, Harry discarded it. He was tapping his right foot patiently, sitting on the bench along with the other reserve players. He didn't mind much, spending his time on the bench throughout the rest of the game. He blew a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his silky raven hair. Okay, perhaps he did mind. He wondered all day why the Coach didn't just put him on the match. He already proved that he was excellent in Quidditch, and considering he scored almost eighty points in the previous game, he should be out there.

He didn't have any desire to steal Brien Carras' spot as one of the main chasers, and he truly wouldn't mind if the guy played against Ballycastle Bats instead of him. Carras did have experience on his side and he deserved it more than Harry, but at the moment, Puddlemere was losing the game. From what Harry could tell throughout the game, their seeker was much better than Williams. The seeker managed to almost snatch the snitch three times already, and they might have won the game if it not for Maxwell Montmerry and Katy Fonger, Puddlemere's beaters, in ensuring the seeker didn't reach the snitch in time.

The Bats' chasers aren't that good but hell, the Bat's star beater, Finbar Quigley, was one heck of a beater. He was defending the goal posts from the Puddlemere's chasers like a madman and his accuracy was good too, very good. Even Harry had to flinch when the bludger sent by Quigley striked Wadcock in the face. Man, Quigley sure put the Magpies' beaters to shame. The Bat's other beater was merely an extra player and supporting Quigley if it was necessary. He was letting Quigley do all the assaults, and Harry thought the man made the right decision.

The match now had gone for an hour and twenty minutes. The score is 430-370 with Ballycastle Bats in the front. All that is because of Quigley. He attacked Puddlemere's players, at the same time protecting his team chasers and the goal posts. That was amazing coming from a single person. They're going to lose this game if the Coach didn't make the decision to place Harry in the game. The only way they could win this tournament was by leading two hundred points or so. Williams won't get the snitch for sure, not against their seeker. Harry was certain the coach knew that by now.

"Kid!" His thoughts shattered at the voice. _Well, speak of the devil._

Harry stood up and marched towards the coach, ignoring the annoyance of the nickname he attained from the man. "What is it, coach?"

Deverill stared the boy for a long time, grumbling. "You're up, go and get ready..."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at that simple comment, nevertheless, he checked his gear and went to get his broom.

Deverill signaled the referee from far away for substitution. There's a bang from the referee's wand, indicating for the exchange players and a few minutes of time out. Seeing this, Carras flew down to where the rest of Puddlemere were. There's no dejection, anger or insulted feeling written on his face. He knew Harry was more of an excellent player than he was. He was not offended to say the least. The only thing he hoped was that the kid would bring them to victory. As he passed Harry, he patted the kid's right shoulder, telling him to win the game. Harry nodded his head with determination on his face. Now facing the coach, Harry was ready to enter the game, verifying his gear one last time.

"Ready, kid?" Deverill asked.

"Yes." Just one word was all that was needed.

Deverill bobbed his head. "I'm going to cut some slack here on giving you a speech to encourage your spirit, kid. I'm convinced you're not nervous like the last time... You know how much this means to me and to the team if we win the game."

"Yes," Harry muttered, hopping on to his broom.

"Good and that's all you need to hear from me..." Harry prepared to join his teammates on the sky. "Oh and one more thing, kid." Harry looked at the coach from over his shoulder, silently imploring him to go on. "You're not alone on the pitch, remember that." Unsure of what it meant, he slowly nodded his head. "Don't worry about it. You're a brilliant kid so I'm sure you'll figure it out soon enough."

"If you say so." At that, he accelerated his broom and up into the sky, hearing the crowds roar for him. The cheer was wild. They had been quite disappointed that he didn't participate from the start of the match since most came to watch him play. The game was not exciting without Harry on the pitch.

Wadcock, with a bluish bruise on his face from the earlier bludger, nodded his head firmly to Harry's direction, his face was solemn. "Glad you could join us, mate, and now let's crush them."

Harry smirked. "Oh, I intend to."

Griffiths joined them. She was cringing slightly at the pain she was in. "Beware of their star beater, Harry. It's him you should be concerned about and not the others. Stay alert of any bludgers coming from him. Trust me, you do not want to be hit by it."

"Sure, I'll be careful," said Harry, not entirely listening. The smirk was still on his face. If only Harry knew that Quigley was saving half of his energy for Harry, and now the man was marking him as his new prey, eyes glinting dangerously.

* * *

><p>Harry swerved his broom violently, nearly getting hit by the bludger as he cursed under his breath. Fifteen minutes had passed now and Harry was struggling to score. He was only able to score one hoop ever since he entered the game. It was Quigley marking him like he was some kind of disease that was required to be brought down. Damn, that guy! He's causing Harry to have difficulty in moving freely around the pitch without furious bludgers from out of nowhere, came pelting towards him.<p>

For Harry, it was not that hard to steal the Quaffle and evade the chasers, however, it was the bludgers that were his main concern. When the first time the Quaffle was in his possession, he was caught off guard by the sudden assault. It nearly blew his head off! Fortunately, he ducked his head as fast as he could before the bludger splintered his head to pieces. That moment was where Harry realized that Quigley was saving most of his energy for him. Harry was in all honesty flattered at the attention of the famous Quidditch player, if it weren't for Quigley striving to kill him for real! What's wrong with him? He did well on their last match so why not this time! Is it because he had the element of surprise in the last time he played? Is that it? And this time, his opponents are more than prepared for his attacks?

Intercepting the opposing chaser's pass, Harry jerked his broom up the notch and zoomed to the sky, narrowly missing the bludger. His jaws tightened. Quigley smirked at him, sending a massive second wave of bludgers. Harry avoided the first but sadly, the second one smashed his right shoulder, making him lose his balance of the broom and the Quaffle. He hissed in pain, desperate to subdue the agonizing pain he was in. The crack was evident. He glared at the beater angrily wherein Quigley responded by flinging a furious bludger to Harry's direction. Straight away, he commanded his broom to join his teammates in defensive position, stretching his right shoulder repetitively. He had to grimace ever so slightly.

"Harry, are you all right?" questioned Griffiths, worried.

"Yeah, a bit stiff on my right shoulder but I can still play normally," Harry muttered. If he used one of the ancient spells, the restoration body spell, it would just put him in the same category to a cheater, and so he would have to endure the pain until the game end.

"We're sorry we couldn't protect you, Potter," Montmerry said sincerely, swishing his broom to him. Fonger trailed behind the man, hanging her head in shame. It was supposed to be their job to protect their own chasers from the bludgers. The thing is they're not doing their job well.

"It's not both of your faults. It's him. H- He's just too damn good," Harry asserted, growling. He stretched his right arm one last time. "I can't believe any beater would throw bludgers like that. It's not normal. It could kill us."

"Well, that's Quigley, mate. What do you expect from someone who basically built for a beater?" Wadcock butted their conversation, his face was serious. "He knew the right moment to strike and properly how to use the bludgers."

"What are you lazy cowards doing up there! Where the hell is my defense?" Deverill bellowed. "Go stop them from scoring!"

_Man, the coach sure knows how to shout. The crowd is nothing compared to his voice._ Harry broke off from his musings as one of the Bat's chasers scored another hoop. The crowds groaned and hollered at the Puddlemere's players for their mistakes. Harry cursed loudly for not concentrating on the game, punching irately at nothing but air.

"We have to focus on the game!" Wadcock snarled, using his superior tone on all of them.

"But what about Quigley? What do we do with him?" Fonger spoke.

"I don't know! All I know is that we need to score some points! If not, Williams won't be able to delay their seeker for much longer! Now, get to your positions!"

Unsurely, they obeyed their captain. Harry grumbled for not much of a plan. Puddlemere was going to get their ass kicked today. Taking a huge breath, Harry eyed the Quaffle. He accelerated his broom to the maximum and just like a snake slinked its way, he flawlessly stole the Quaffle. He out-flew the chasers and charged to the goal posts without slowing down the broom's current speed. He was determined to score no matter what it took. He heard the crowds cried out his name in support, his teammates called out for him to wait for them, but his sight was too centered on earning some points that he discounted every bit of it.

Deverill watched from below, arms intersecting together over his chest. His left hand fingers were drumming his right elbow. His eyebrows furrowed in gravity. "Come' on, kid... Pass it… Pass the darn Quaffle to your teammates, kid…" he mumbled to no one in particular. "We're not going to win this game if you play individually. That's your biggest weak point. You're too dependent on yourself and over confident of your ability… Your mistake is that you think you're all alone in terms of everything when everyone you know is supporting behind your back and look up to you."

Back to Harry, he was closing in on the goal post. He skidded his broom to an abrupt halt when a bludger rushed past him, and he looked to his side, expecting it was Quigley but to his horror, it was not. It was the extra beater. He was smirking at him as he waved one hand, meaning to say a goodbye to Harry. Bewildered by this but didn't get a chance to think once a strong powerful hard object demolished his head. At that, Harry loosened his grip on the broom and just permitted his body to descend down the ground, dragging the Quaffle with him. It was Harry's luck that he was not flying from a high height. His eyes looked up at the sky in disbelief, completely forgetting the pain. There was no denying the wetness on the back of his head was no ordinary water, rather, his own blood.

With a steady pace, his vision blackened. The last thing he heard was so many people shouting out his name and the gasps of the crowds.

* * *

><p>'Harry...You need to wake up, my child. The game isn't over yet. There is still hope if you enter it again.' That voice. It sounded familiar. Where did he hear that from, again? 'I can answer that for you, my child.' The sound of the tone was amused. 'Now, have you forgotten me? I am very much wounded that you do not recognize my own voice. After all, I have taken care of you since you were just a small little boy. Do not tell me you have completely forgotten of me?'<p>

Harry's eyes snapped open in annoyance at that really familiar voice! It's that old man messing with his head. Waking up in an instant, he sat upright. He gritted his teeth, irritated of the voice in his head. He fluttered his eyes rapidly when he was greeted with many people looking at him in stagger, all hushed. He scowled at the attention. "What are you all looking at?"

"Mr. Potter!" Gandalf was shocked to see the boy was conscious. They just brought him to the changing room to fix his head and the team's healer clearly affirmed that he wouldn't be conscious for a day or so. The healer did also mention the bludger hit his head really hard. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, why I wouldn't be?" asked Harry, frustrated. Then, just like a tons of bricks dropped to his head, the memory hit him. "Oh..."

At this, many of his teammates shook out of their stupor and hastened to him, asking the same question as Gandalf was. "QUIET!" All piped down at the stern voice. Deverill shoved his players roughly to face the kid, slight concern. "Kid, are you quite sure you're all right? It's not that hard to miss you getting hit by the bludger especially on the head."

"Yes, I'm fine," Harry grumbled, bringing his feet out of the bed to sit properly. His hand shot to the back of his head, distinguished it had been wrapped in a tight small bandage. Despite it was healed by magic, the healer used the bandage so that it won't affect the healing process of his injury. He stood up. "Let's get on with the game. You all are wasting your time on worrying me."

Everyone was stunned at that attitude. Surely, getting hit by the bludger affected his confidence. The kid is full of surprises.

"Hold just a minute!" Deverill rose up to his feet as well. "What the hell are you doing, kid?"

"Winning the game," Harry said firmly, walking over to his broom. He inspected it for any sign of damage. Nodding his head since there was not a dent or a scratch, he slung the broom over his shoulder.

"Did the bludger hit your head pretty hard, kid?" Deverill snarled strictly. Everyone backed away from the angry man, opting the right choice was not to interfere the man. "You're staying in the bed for the rest of the game, Potter! This game is already over for you! I will not allow you to take one more step into the gam-"

"I know what you meant, coach. I truly understand it now and for that I thank you." The others were confounded at this. Deverill cooled down, comprehending which part Harry meant.

Deverill gazed the kid for a short while. There was the bang from the referee wand. "Are you sure this is what you want, kid?"

"Definitely, I got a score to settle with Quigley. You think, I'll let it let slide after what he did to me? Fat chance, coach."

Deverill's lips gradually coiled to a smirk. "Then rip the Bat's wings apart."

He dispatched the coach a devilish grin. "Gladly."

* * *

><p>Seeing a bludger directed to him, Wadcock dropped the Quaffle. He pulled his broom up, avoiding the bludger from knocking him. Harry immediately lunged for the Quaffle that Wadcock released earlier, snatching it and dashed to the goal posts. Closing in to the goal post, he departed his right arm, almost felt like he was preparing to toss the Quaffle to one of the goal posts. But that wasn't his intention as he threw the Quaffle to the air next to him, not so strong, more like passing it. At this, Griffiths took her cue and hit the Quaffle with the tail of her broom as hard as she could. The crowds cheered when the Quaffle passed through one of the hoops. Griffiths grinned at her score, flying to Harry as she high-fived him. Harry returned her gesture, smiling a little. They went to their captain, taking their defensive position. Wadcock grinned, complimenting them of their teamwork.<p>

The game had gone for an hour and twenty-five minutes and Puddlemere United is in the lead for the first time of the game. Harry looked at the score, breathing heavily. He wiped the sweat out of his face. The score already went by 620 to 470. Their teamwork was faultless. With Harry stealing the Quaffle, Griffiths' scoring ability and Wadcock's leadership combined with his assists on allowing his two teammates to score, the three of them were the best teamwork anyone could find. Harry marveled absently why their performance wasn't like this in the previous game. They would outclass the Magpies without a beat and save their strength for the prolonged game. Probably, most of it was his own fault. He was worn out though, the rest of the players appeared to be much more exhausted than him.

Somehow the snitch hasn't shown itself which the Puddlemere team was thankful of. In this game, Harry never scored beyond hundred points, only sixty points and the rest goes to the other two chasers. He smiled unconsciously in spite of his breath was ragged. This is what it feels like if you played Quidditch with excellent teamwork. It's a feeling he never experienced in his life, sharing the game he loves with other people. He reminded himself after all of this, that from this point on, he would put an effort as to not play Quidditch in individual style. That was what he was doing all this time.

He reverted to reality as one of the chaser slipped past him. Growling, he was about to rush after the player. He stopped instinctively when a furious bludger passed him. He gnashed his teeth irritatingly and glared at Quigley. That jerk doesn't know when to quit, does he? The man glared him back by the distance. Harry also observed that Quigley only have the brawn but not the brain. Once Puddlemere learned to utilize their teamwork, Quigley was pretty much confused on whom to strike which gave them the advantage in the game.

Looking upfront and ignoring Quigley, Harry inhaled a sharp breath as the Bat's chasers attempted to score. He blew a breath of relief when Casper Doukas blocked it. Suddenly, the crowds' cheering went nuts. Puzzled, Harry looked at the large magical screen. His eyes were large when the opposing seeker was reaching out for the snitch. Williams was lugging behind the seeker. If they tied in this game, then Ballycastle Bats will win the game. They had never loss a single match before. Shaking his head to clear the daze, Harry shouted Wadcock to pass the Quaffle to him.

Wadcock snapped at Harry's voice, clearly he heard it amongst the vociferous cheer from the crowds that's currently filled in the stadium. All of the players were still watching the large magical screen in anxiety and anticipation. All of the attention was on the snitch. This was an opportunity for Harry. Harry shouted more angrily to Wadcock to pass the Quaffle to him quickly. Wadcock couldn't hear what Harry was saying but wasn't foolish enough to see how irate he is. He clenched the Quaffle and threw it with all his might to Harry, roaring that was equal to a lion's.

Looking at the Quaffle, Harry swished his broom to it. Catching it in time, he let out a surprise shout as he almost lost his balance on the broom and his grasp on the Quaffle. His broom's speed was on the maximum at the present. He eyed the magical screen and gritted his teeth since the Bat's seeker was on the verge of seizing the snitch. Harry was still far from the goal posts to take the shot. He pushed the broom again and again. His emerald eyes were blazing with full of determination, hands trembling slightly in adrenaline and his head was about to explode.

This was a race against time! Harry couldn't allow Ballycastle Bats to win!

He cried out in pain when a bludger hit his left shoulder powerfully. At that, it affected his flying as it went to wrong direction, directing it to the ground instead. Damn Quigley! Not now! He was not going to give up. Discarding the pain, he successfully moved the direction of the broom up, just a bit. However, his triumph was short-lived when another bludger striked his broom this time. Harry yelled in surprise as his body was hurled from his broom. On his guard right away and still in the air, he glanced at the goal posts. His body nearly contacted the ground.

Shutting his eyes and praying to some unknown deity, with a loud desperate cry, he threw the Quaffle with the last bit of energy he had. He braced himself next, covering his face with both of his hands as his body slid to the ground painfully and then stopped after a few seconds. He opened his eyes, breathing profoundly. He sat upright, wide eyes scrutinizing the pitch. Standing up frenetically, he looked at the magical screen. If it possible his wide eyes amplified more at the final score. He couldn't believe it...

He did it! There, the score was 630 to 620!

There was another magical screen emerged right beside the score. It was displaying how Harry scored on the last minute. It even showed his desperate facial expression on scoring the points. A large smile was visible on his lips as he watched the screen repeating his previous action. The sound of the crowd was deafening, entirely unexpected of the outcome. He twirled his body to greet his teammates who ran over him. He smiled more broadly as he clapped each of his two hands on Wadcock's. Both males wore the biggest grin ever. Then, straight away he was brought to a suffocating headlock by Williams. Both Doukas and Montmerry joined in with Williams as all three men ruffled his hair.

Harry laughed happily at this along with his teammates, didn't mind his hair was very messy and the pain he was in. The only thing on his mind was, they won! They won the bloody tournament! The coach was right, the victory was indeed sweet! It was nothing like Hogwarts. The stadium was showered by different colors of confetti and the boisterous noise from the crowds spread up in the air. The two regular commentators were shouting bloody loud that Puddlemere United won the tournament.

* * *

><p>After few minutes, perhaps much more minutes, all of it settled down. The crowds now watched as Puddlemere United players, along with Deverill, stepped on the podium to receive the cup from the organizer of the tournament. The man had a large grin on his face. Shaking hands with the organizer of the tournament, Deverill practically stole the cup from the man, accidentally knocking him off the podium. No attention was on the organizer as the cameras began clicking madly when Deverill raised the cup with both of his hands.<p>

After he brought it down, all Puddlemere's players crowded the coach, eagerly touching the cup with their hands. The reporters insisted them to do so for the front page of Daily Prophet. Harry, seeing most of them were placing their hands on the cup, he shrugged uncaringly, putting just one finger on top of the cup, though, he did so with a smile of amusement on his face. Some chuckled at this, but didn't stop flashing the cameras. Fireworks started to explode in the air and another round of confetti burst on the podium. It was soon joined by the crowds, noisily applauding for them.

Harry endured minutes on the podium, smiling slightly at the crowds. It's not wrong for him to enjoy the victory. He did so previously on the pitch and that was Gryffindor of him. However, he didn't mind at all. In the meantime, Wadcock was holding a Quaffle in his hand. Supposedly, a captain must have tossed the Quaffle to the crowd. It's for their fans. He grinned as he eyed the boy who made this all come true. He exchanged glances with Griffiths and nodded their heads, smiling.

"Mate!" Wadcock called out for him.

Harry blinked and shifted his attention to Puddlemere's captain. "Yes, captain?" He noticed the reporters never got tired of flashing the cameras, and he learned to just ignore it, simply let them do whatever they wish to.

The guy grinned, walking over him and shoved the Quaffle to the kid's stomach. Harry, still inexperienced to all of this, gazed confusedly at the Quaffle in his hands, wondering what to do with it. Wadcock laughed at this, slinging his arm over Harry's shoulder. "Just turn around, close your eyes and throw it to the crowds. The girls will love it, mate! If you're lucky, you'll get a reaction," Wadcock whispered.

"Okay..." Harry answered uncertainly. He did what the captain told him to. He spun around, arms ready to throw the Quaffle and eyes shut securely. Seeing the young chaser, the crowds began making so much noise, screaming ecstatically. Harry furrowed his forehead at the noise. Taking a huge breath, he blindly tossed the Quaffle. He turned around and eyes popped at the crowds fighting over the Quaffle, men and women, alike.

"Is that supposed to happen?" asked Harry, pointed his finger at the crowds wrestling each other for the Quaffle. There's sound of tearing robes and a bunch of stuff flying from the crowds including shoes, most definitely shoes.

"Um... no..." Wadcock said. "A catfight maybe, but not this..."

They both ducked as spells hurried toward them. "Shouldn't we do something?"

"Nah..." Wadcock waved his hand carelessly. "Let them be, it will make them happy."

"Okay, you're the expert in this kind of stuff, not me." Harry nonchalantly budged his head to the right to evade another incoming spell.

* * *

><p><strong>3 August 1992.<strong>

The next day, Harry found himself in Deverill's office at early morning. Apparently, after the finale of the tournament, the players were allowed to take a break for four long months before returning to their daily routine in training. Harry was in Puddlemere's headquarters because Deverill had summoned him, something important said the coach. He sighed in relief, given that he doesn't have to deal with coach bawling for his lateness. That night, he didn't waste time to disappear from the party.

"Oh good, you're here early, saves me from shouting at you." Deverill closed the door and maneuvered himself to his desk. "So kid, how are you feeling now?"

Harry feigned a look of pain, massaging his left shoulder. "If you're wondering about that hit from Quigley then it's damn painful, I tell you, coach."

Deverill grumbled at this, dropping the grin. "You're lucky, there's no more training and players are free-"

"From you?" Harry smirked, amused expression plastered all over his face.

"Watch it, kid, or I'll wipe out that smug face of yours."

Harry silenced for a while before saying, "To be frank, I'm really overwhelmed these past few months. Things I would never imagine I would go through or live through. I experienced many things, discovered new feelings, and most of all, I study a lot of things from you. I realized last night that I've been kind of selfish, playing a one man team instead of with my teammates. I think that's the most important lesson of all. I now know that... even though we think we are alone in this world, but in truth we never were and people who tend to forget about us... they never have any intention or wish to forget about us..." Harry left his sentence hanging, a slight sorrow glittered on both of his eyes. Memory of his childhood materialized inside his head.

Deverill saw this. "I'm happy to hear you recognizing your mistake, kid. I truly am. Remember, out there, doing things alone was never successful for a person, whether it's Quidditch or life, it's all the same to people. You can't find the meaning of life alone. The best you can hope is allow people to assist you in your long journey." The coach of Puddlemere coughed purposely, catching the kid's attention. "I think we're missing the point on why I called for you."

"Why did you call me, coach?"

Deverill fumbled something inside his desk. He pulled out a key that Harry identified it as one of the key's vault in Gringotts. "I kind of forgot to give you your key when you first joined our club." Deverill handed the key to Harry. A bit of sheepish splashed his features.

"What key? What's this for? Isn't that for a vault in Gringotts?"

"That's right, it is. You have your own vault supplied with plenty galleons, just for you, kid. Inside it is all yours."

"What?" Harry was shocked to hear this. "What do you mean all of it is mine? No way am I going to accept this! You can have it!"

"With that many galleons in your vault, you're giving them all to me? That's very generous of you, kid." Deverill was being his usual sarcastic. "What? You thought you join a professional Quidditch club for fun? You're full of yourself, kid. The time I gave you one of Puddlemere's badge is the time you start a career of professional Quidditch. Every member in this club had to be paid, kid. They have their own salary. You also without an exception. Just because you're underage doesn't mean you don't get paid, that would be unprofessional of us. You also have your own fair share of galleons for the effort you put on the last two matches," Deverill grumbled, his hand still hanging in the air. "Well, don't just stand there. Do you want to leave me like this all day long? Hurry up! Take the bloody key from me and when you need galleons to purchase something, just go to one of the tellers in Gringotts and asked them about your vault."

Harry, with trembling hands, grabbed the key, looking at it with astonishment written all over his face. "But- but- is this okay? I m-mean..."

"Yes, kid. It's all yours. You deserve it and you earn those galleons with your hard work and effort." Deverill stood up from his seat. "Now, I'm going to let you off the hook until next year so you better damn sharpen up your skills when you get back. If I find you're getting rusty, you'll be in a big trouble, kid. Do you understand that?"

"Y-yeah, s-sure, coach. I'll be in top condition when I get back. I promise you that. I'll try to train my body to the limits."

"Good." Deverill permitted a slight smile on his wrinkled lips. "Now, go have some fun. It is summer. You should be out there like every kid of your age, enjoying yourself. This isn't advice, kid. It's an order."

Hands still shaky from receiving a vault key from the coach, Harry smiled at the man. "I'll try."

The coach extended his right hand for Harry, on his feet. Hesitant at first, but Harry took it, shaking it firmly. "Until next year, kid..."

"Until next year, coach..." Harry smiled a little, nodding his head towards the future. He placed his newly acquired vault key in one of his coat's pockets.

A good sign of life ahead of him, indeed.

* * *

><p><strong>4 August 1992.<strong>

That night, as always, Harry arrived home late. After his business in Puddlemere finally concluded, he immediately went to the Greengrass manor, having received an invitation from Lady Greengrass. He actually fell to his butt twice once he stepped out of the fireplace. First, was his annoying skill in magical transportation, however, the second was a surprise from four families. They were holding a celebration party of their own for his accomplishment. To say he was stumped was beyond understatement. He woke up that morning with a bright smile on his face. His smile was still attached as he stared at the lovely morning through the window of his room. He stalked away from his bed. He waved his right hand nonchalantly on the direction of the bed, cleaning the mess from his sleep. He stretched both hands, feeling a great day ahead of him.

Yesterday had been a marvelous day for him. He spent the rest of the day in the Greengrass manor with the girls and their families, but his time was more on the girls. He spent the day with them, talking about useless things, teasing, joking and enjoying their companies. Sheila was even bold enough to challenge him to a battle of Quidditch to which the other three girls shook their heads in amazement at their friend's stubbornness. Surely by now, she knew that Harry was far from her reach in terms of skill in Quidditch. Harry smiled in amusement at the memory of yesterday. It was kind of fun, he supposed. He shook his head, chuckling to himself, astounded at the effect the girls had on him.

As he was about to go to the bathroom, something held him back. It was a small burst of blue flame, flaring up in the air. He looked at the parchment that glided in the air smoothly, taking the place of the fire. He knew that magic from anywhere and he knew only one person other than him could perform that technique excellently. It must be urgent if it is all of the sudden. He snatched the parchment, face was serious. The moment his hand touched the parchment is the time Harry realized he was not in his room but rather somewhere else very familiar.

"You are here..." Harry looked up, _Incendio_ the parchment he held on his hand. He was in the room where he had done all of his trainings with Merlin.

"Old man...?" That transportation was no ordinary transport. Only Merlin could come up with something like that. It's different from Portkey or any other magical transportation of this era and Harry wasn't landing on his butt so it had to be different. "What's this about?"

"Why, I missed you so much, Harry. It's that to be considered a problem?" The ancient man concealed his mouth with the back of his hand, with no effort hiding his amusement but rather displaying it. He gave a dramatic sigh afterwards, collapsing to a grand chair he conjured effortlessly. "Ah, how have I longed for you to act cheerful and smile in front of me. It would seem all of that is just my endless imagination...Very much shame, oh a shame, indeed."

Harry scowled. "Cut the crap. If you do miss me, you will just find a way to bug me or annoy the hell out of me. What's this about, Merlin?"

Merlin heaved an exhausted sigh and dropped his childish antics. "I have come to a decision to carry out your training once more, child."

"What?" Harry's eyes flew wide. "But I thought you said-"

"I fear that you will not have the strength to overcome the next obstacle that lay ahead of you and so, I have chosen to prepare you with the remaining time in our hands for this new peril. Yes, this training will assist you to vanquish this threat."

"What danger? What are you talking about?" Harry demanded.

"The questions you seek will slowly be answered, child. Be patient just a while longer. All of it will come to you." Harry was ready to protest this angrily but one stern stare from the ancient man caused his tongue to dry out to form a word, and his body rigid in obedience. "Listen very carefully, Harry. These remaining days before you return to Hogwarts will be significant for you. Have full confidence in me, child. You are very well aware that I, for all of our time, have always been guiding you in your life."

"For you to call me like this, it must be really important." Harry calmed down, though never diminished his scowl. "All right then, I'm willing to play your cards for the time being and be patient on what lies in my future."

"Very good." The fire began to light up in the training chamber, marking the beginning of the training. Harry sighed exasperatedly. The old man surely did not to waste anymore time. Can't he at least clean himself?

"I will not teach you incantations nor will I teach you spells. I will not illustrate you to increase your magical core nor will I supply you with knowledge. However, I will teach you how to utilize your magic with both of your eyes. You will acquire the skills that I once showed you. The process will be painful, Harry, but it is necessary for you to succeed in distributing your magic to both of your eyes and control the flow of your magic in your eyes. It will not be as powerful as it is with your hands, but it will give you certain benefits and chances in winning battles. You will have an element of surprise for your enemies. It will also shield your eyes from any form of magic or...instant death..."

That's not a good sign, never was good sign when death is related to anything.


	12. Chapter 11, Season 2

**Chapter 11.**

**23 August 1992.**

Satisfied, Harry turned off the shower. He searched for a towel, grumbling when he couldn't find one. A grin spread across his face as an idea popped in his cunning mind. _"Accio!" _A towel shot to him. Grasping it, he smirked complacently. He didn't have to use his hands this time. Harry wasted no time wrapping the cashmere around the lower part of his body, covering his manhood. Passing the mirror placed on his bathroom wall, he paused and faced it, looking into the depths of his own reflection. Harry's body was still soaked with water, droplets sliding from the ends of his hair. He narrowed his eyes at the mirror.

He murmured something to himself, suddenly altering his emerald eyes. They turned to a color of pure gold just for a brief moment. Withdrawing from the mirror, he grinned a little - his whole body was now dry, including his hair. Whistling happily, he exited the bathroom. His whistle was cut short, however, as he was greeted by the sight of his room. It was filthy. With all the excitement, he never really did have the time to clean it this summer. Ramming those thoughts to the back of his head, Harry grinned. No matter, he'll clean it now. Eyeing all the dirt and rubbish scattered across the floor, he muttered a spell he knew would take care of the problem. Again, as he did so, his emerald eyes flashed pure gold just for the briefest moment. His room, however, was now spotless. No dust, dirt or anything disgusting.

He smiled in amusement at the situation he was in. Sauntering to his wardrobe, he pulled out something to wear.

While he was dressing, his mind was in someplace else. The old man had presented him with another technique. He was now able to use magic with both of his eyes, akin to what Merlin had shown him last summer. Harry never got tired of using it. It was thrilling. It wasn't as powerful as using magic with both of his hands, but to him, it was far more fun. He could be devious and discreet when he used his eyes. He also looked cooler that way. The problem with channeling magic through his eyes was that he couldn't cast a powerful spell, just a minor one. He could, however, still use his _Telekinesis _through his eyes, though the push-and-pull force was still not too strong. Overwhelmed by the excitement of the _Mystic Eyes_, a darker memory suddenly trespassed his thoughts. Harry shivered, unconsciously wincing, his eyes flicking shut.

Achieving the _Mystic Eyes _came with a price_,_ and Harry would very much rather not go through that experience again.

It wasn't that Harry required to sacrifice anything, such as losing his sight, in order to see the magical auras. No, it was the simple reality of the training. The experience was more excruciating than anything Harry ever felt in his life. The first week of it, he had screamed in utter anguish as his own magic was being pushed to his eyes. It felt as if they were being boiled in searing, scorching water. He tried very hard to concentrate on controlling his magic, but with the feeling of fire burning through his eye sockets, it was hardly a success. Merlin informed him that he had acquired the _Mystic Eyes_ through natural causes - Harry had not.

It was for this reason that he had to endure the pain of the training. In Harry's case, he was going against nature.

Harry had passed out after twenty minutes of training on the first week alone. Furthermore, he had to stay two weeks in Merlin's mansion for his own safety. His eyes had to be healed repetitively after another session of training. Harry hadn't questioned how Merlin handled the situation of him vanishing from the Wizarding world for two weeks, why no one came looking for him. He could only assume the old man had his ways. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, dispersing the painful memory from his head. In the third week, he had finally gotten the hang of his new magic with the help of meditation. He had just completed his training yesterday afternoon and he suspected the reason Merlin had kept him so long was that he wanted to be sure Harry's eyes weren't in pain anymore.

Nonetheless, the time spent with the old man had privileges in attaining this new form of magic. He didn't have to focus so much if he wished to see other people's magical auras. Just a simple thought and he could identify the auras around him. It was fascinating. Another major benefit, even masters of _Legillimency _wouldn't be able to read Harry's mind. Whenever someone would try to probe his mind through his eyes, his magic would just repel the attempt. Simply put, Harry no longer had to spend his time learning _Occulumency_. He now knew that his mind had been protected by Merlin ever since he was young. He was thankful for the old man and pondered a way he could express his gratitude. But he discounted the idea of it as soon as it came to mind. The old man wouldn't let it die easily and would tease him mercilessly.

Harry's emerald eyes trailed to the badge on his desk. It was not his Puddlemere badge, it was a prefect badge.

Merlin had supplied him with this latest information. He handed the badge over to Harry along with a letter from Professor McGonagall that was sent during his disappearance from the Wizarding world. At the time, he was seriously considering rejecting the offer - responsibility was not exactly his strong suit. In the end, he accepted. If he refused, the offer would just go to someone else. He was positive the other prefect position went to Callista as she's next at the top of their year. He wasn't going to allow some male to be the other prefect. Harry was not oblivious to the fact that most Ravenclaws lusted after Callista, and he shuddered at the thought of her alone with other guys. He was overprotective of the girls and he sent clear messages to all males in his year. No boys ever approached the girls when he was with them, and that suited him just fine.

He smiled slightly and decided that it was time for breakfast. He opened his bedroom door, only to stop in his tracks, frowning deeply at the sight before him. Lily stood frozen in his doorway, right hand poised to knock. He quickly switched the scowl on his face to a bright, fake smile. "Is there something you want?" Harry's question was more of hostility than hospitality.

Lily wasn't blind, she could see right through his fabricated cheer.

"Harry…" she greeted him softly, smiling rather awkwardly. "Today, we're going to Diagon Alley with the Weasleys and I was hoping you would come with us. You do need to replenish your school supplies, yes?"

Her eyes were glowing with hope, plenty of hope for him to give her a positive answer. Harry's lips twitched, repressing his emotion. To be frank, he did want to purchase his school supplies in Diagon Alley today, but he would prefer to go alone. Inwardly, he locked down his emotions, keeping them from bursting out. He had no idea what had happened to his parents that had caused them to be this... caring. All through the summer they had made attempts to talk to him, inviting him to have dinner or breakfast with the family. They treated him like any caring parents would treat their children. His mother, especially, displayed this unusual compassion.

He averted his eyes, lost in memories. His mother had even waited for him to come home from his time with Puddlemere United just to have conversation with him. Harry, however, had avoided their attempts at every chance he got. He was simply not comfortable with them. How would anyone feel if a person's presence brought discomfort? Of course, they would avoid the person. He sighed this time, scratching the back of his head in frustration. He hated this kind of situation. Harry looked at his mother and permitted a slight serene smile. "Sure…"

Lily returned his smile brightly, seeing this as a progress. "Then we will leave after breakfast. We'll give you some galleons to purchase your things-"

"No, it's fine," Harry interrupted her mildly. He saw his mother was a bit too excited and giddy by his positive response. "I have galleons of my own. I earned it all from my time in Puddlemere."

"Oh…" Awkward tension swarmed between the two. Lily smiled at Harry, still happy he agreed to go with them. "Very well. But first, let's have breakfast togeth-"

"I already ate." A complete lie. The tension around them intensified. Harry cleared his throat to crush the ice. "After you all finish, just send Rosaline to get me."

His tone signified the end of their conversation.

Harry had almost shut the door when, "Harry?" Lily called out instinctively. He paused and looked back at her expectantly. She opened her mouth to discuss what she had been planning to say to him. In fact, she had so many things to talk about with him - his recent acceptance into a professional Quidditch team, for one - but her son clearly didn't want to go there. If she forced this, Lily realized, she'd miss another chance of spending a quality time with him. She spared a smile at her eldest son and shook her head, telling him it was nothing. At this, the door gently closed without him returning her smile. All that passed between them was a clash of emerald eyes.

* * *

><p>After both families arrived at Diagon Alley, Lily's hope to spend time with Harry came crashing down as he disappeared straight away.<p>

Harry observed his family from afar. He used the invisibility spell once he had reached Diagon Alley and without wasting time, put as much distance as possible between him and his family. He watched as his parents looked around for him and, to his mild surprise, so did his little brother. Pulling his Ascot hat down, he shook his head at this recent development. It wasn't a bad thing, it just made him feel uncomfortable. It was always what he desired, wasn't it? Straying his eyes away, he turned and walked in the direction of Gringotts.

Concealing his face from the people around him, Harry slipped through the crowds, avoiding all contact. Unlike those wearing their cloaks, he wore a brown coat that reached to his knees. Reaching the bank, he stepped inside and surveyed the sight before him, noting that a few families were there. He smiled as a piece of memory manifested into mind. Gringotts was the first place he ever visited when he came to Diagon Alley at the age of seven. Like any child, he had been curious of the goblins. Once he had actually come face to face with one, he screamed in terror and bolted out of the building.

Dragging his mind back to the present, Harry clutched the key that was given to him by Deverill. This may be the first time he received money by himself. There had been some he earned from running errands in Diagon Alley during his childhood, but it consisted of sickles and knuts, not galleons. This time, however, he had his own vault, full to the brim of money he had earned himself. He wasn't quite sure how much it contained, given that he lacked the time to check on it regularly. Cautiously, he walked to one of the tellers at the corner, far away from other people in the building.

He cleared his throat and whispered to the goblin, "I wish to make a deposit."

The teller looked up at this, scowling. "State your name, please," he snarled.

Harry stiffened, and his mind darted to find a way to go through with this without attracting unwanted attention. He scrutinized his surroundings before whispering furtively to the teller once more, "Harry Potter."

The goblin's reaction was unexpected. He choked his own saliva and the papers he was attending to now lay abandoned. The goblin did a double take and his eyes grew wide as saucers, nearly bursting out of his skull. "M-Master Harry!" At that outburst, silence reigned, and all goblins froze as their eyes locked onto Harry. He groaned noisily. This was exactly what he didn't want. It wasn't his recent fame he was concerned about, it was something related to the old man.

* * *

><p>"I trust you have been well all this time, Master Harry?"<p>

"Yes, quite so, Ragnok. I trust you're in good health in spite of your old age?" There was sarcasm in his tone.

After few minutes in the bank's hall, he was having tea with the master goblin in the director's opulence office. He'd been invited by the director himself after word had spread of Harry's sudden presence in the bank. He had to endure the blatant stares from the wizards and witches in the bank at that time. Fortunately, they didn't know Harry's identity, and they were considerably surprised when the director of Gringotts made an appearance just for the sake of a young teenage boy.

"Yes, I appreciate your concern, Master Harry." Ragnok gave him a feral grin. "I heard of your recent achievement and I congratulate you for it. It is nearly impossible for a wizard of your age to reach it."

Sipping the tea, Harry nodded his head, snuggling deeper in the comfy chair. "Thank you, Ragnok. And for the last time, there is no need to call me Master! I've told you many times already, damn it! What's wrong with you, goblins? Do you all have trouble hearing?" Harry said grumpily.

"Many times, Master Harry?" Ragnok feigned a confused look. Then his face gave way to a grin. "I seem to recall you said that once, a few years ago."

Harry blew a frustrated breath, putting the cup gently on the table.

Goblins, he comprehended, had their way of knowing what went on in the world. Their magic is ancient compared to other magical creatures and they had been more than aware of the old man's presence all this time. Every goblin knew of Merlin, and they called him as the Lord of Magic, referring to his infinite knowledge of the subject. Furthermore, they depicted the old man as their lord. When Merlin took the duty of buying him some clothes and school supplies when he was eleven, they went to Gringotts to withdraw some galleons. Ever since the goblins saw Harry with the old man, they persistently addressed him as "Master." To Harry, it was infuriating. They even believed he was Merlin's apprentice, which annoyed Harry to an even further extent. He truly was in denial that he was apprenticed to that old geezer.

"Ragnok, as much as I appreciate you inviting me to this…" Harry gestured awkwardly to the cup. "I have some shopping to do. I came here for a deposit from my vault and nothing more."

"Yes, yes, I've been informed of this vault ever since you joined the wizard's professional sport, Quidditch. I assure you, Master Harry, everything is in order. If you'd please be patient a while longer, we will let you know the amount of galleons that you currently possess." A knock on the door echoed around the room. "Ah… it's here."

Ragnok lashed his tongue acidly, snarling in a language Harry assumed was Gobblegook.

_Bloody goblins, _he thought, _why can't they just speak like the rest of us?_

The door creaked open. A small goblin entered, carrying a stack of papers. Clumsily, the goblin tripped over his own feet, sending the papers flying into the large office. Ragnok snapped irately at the small goblin. Still, Harry could not comprehend what on earth the goblin was saying. Though, considering how Ragnok pointed his finger to Harry every now and then, Harry guessed that Ragnok was berating the little goblin for disrespecting Harry.

"Ragnok, that's enough. Give the poor goblin a break. I'll fix this mess for you." Without waiting for an answer, Harry squinted his eyes at the papers. Every sheet flew back into the little goblin's open hands, perfectly organized. Harry quirked his lips. "There. Now for God's sake, stop shouting, will you? You're going to impair both of my ears."

Ragnok slumped back in his seat and the little goblin dazedly placed the papers on the desk. Two sets of eyes came to rest on Harry.

"Remarkable!" Ragnok exclaimed. "If I may, Master Harry? Is that an ancient magic? The once lost art, perhaps - the _Mystic Eyes_?"

Harry's eyebrows vanished into the line of his hair. "Yes, it is, but that's all I can give you. I'm quite surprised you know of it. You goblins never cease to amaze me, your kind does know the history of magic quite well."

"Yes and we are proud of it."

Harry scoffed. "You goblins are always a proud race to me."

"Time is of the essence, so let us return to your business, Master Harry." The director of Gringotts shuffled through the papers, searching for his vault record. "Ah, here it is. This is the final amount of gold you received from Puddlemere United. The gold stopped flowing to your vault on 3rd August and the largest amount you ever received came in on that day. Perhaps, it's best you see it yourself, Master Harry."

Too lazy to stand up, Harry simply blinked his eyes and the paper floated to him. Ragnok gave him a wicked grin at his casual performance. Harry snatched the paper from the air and allowed his eyes to roam the statistics. The reaction was instantaneous as he straightened his back and mouth dropped open. "What the fuck? A hundred and twenty thousand! Ragnok, is this for real? This is too much!"

Ragnok grinned mischievously. "Yes, well, it is what you have in your vault and you cannot fault us for it. If you wish to blame someone, blame yourself for successfully earning so much gold, Master Harry. We goblins are merely doing our job."

"Now, hold on, I-" Harry held his tongue as his brain processed all of this. He heaved an exhausted sigh and looked over his vault's record again. "Is all of this really mine? I can't believe I own this much. Alright then, can you assign someone to accompany me to my vault?"

"It's already been done, Master Harry. Rest assured your vault is placed in the highest security." Harry had never requested that, but he bit back his tongue.

Ragnok howled crossly in Gobblegook for another goblin to enter the office. "This is one of our finest workers in Gringotts. He will assist you to your vault, Master Harry." He hadn't asked for that either.

Harry just stood up, nodding his head. The paper on his hand began floating on its own and placed itself on the desk. "Ragnok, by my leave then."

"Yes, do have safe journey and I do hope we will meet again in the near future. May your gold continue to flow, Master Harry."

"I already have enough gold, Ragnok. I don't need it to flow anymore," Harry grumbled, oblivious to the respectful implications of Ragnok's parting words. "If it does continue to flow, I won't know what to do with it."

Ragnok smiled, not the common scary grin. "And may your enemies be slaughtered and humiliated at your hands, Master Harry."

"Now that, I will take. Farwell, goblin, until we meet again." The director bobbed his head. As the door closed, Ragnok's ears perked up at the sound of Harry's muffled voice. "And for the last time don't call me Master! Damn it, make sure that's in your old thick skull when I come back here! That goes for your entire race! You hear me?"

The aged goblin chuckled with mirth in his eyes. The Lord of Magic sure knew how to pick an interesting apprentice.

* * *

><p>The tinkling sound of a bell chimed and Harry stepped in Madam Malkin's shop. Gazing around, Harry looked back at the bell above the door, smiling faintly. He examined the store with his eyes, noting the lack of anything new. Nothing ever does change around here. He pulled his hat back and smoothed his messy hair. Still looking around, he didn't notice a small figure standing behind him.<p>

"Excuse me, sir. Do you need anything from Madam Malkin's robes?" A young girl graciously welcomed Harry.

Harry blinked his eyes, turning around to greet the person. He opened his mouth to speak but the girl beat him to it. She gasped loudly, both hands covering her mouth. "H-Har-Harry Potter!" she squeaked, cheeks reddening. Harry puckered his lips in disapproval, silently scolding himself for removing his hat. He had completely forgotten his newly acquired fame.

He cleared his throat, feeling unease at the girl's reaction. "Um… I require a new set of robes for Hogwarts. My old ones were beginning to get too small." That wasn't strictly true. Harry could simply use magic to alter the size of his clothing. Like any other person, however, he desired the luxury of new expensive robes with high quality texture.

The girl's eyes were wide. Her mouth was moving, but no words surfaced from it. She simply stood there with her mouth opening and closing routinely. Harry frowned at the girl's response, though quickly hid his annoyance from the girl. His eyes snapped up as a sound from the back of the store caught his attention.

"Mary, what are you doing with our customer? I hope you're not scaring them away." The familiar voice rang out. Harry's heart leapt. Madam Malkin appeared from the back of the shop. "Harry!" She smiled largely at the sight of him and hastening to engulf him in a hug. Harry returned it, smiling back at her.

"Madam, it's good to see you again." He broke their hug, though the woman's hands kept their grip on his shoulders, not allowing him move.

"My dear, look at you! You've grown! You're not so little anymore." Harry chuckled. "I take it you need new robes for Hogwarts?"

"Yes I do, but preferably high quality ones. I can pay for them."

"Of course, my dear, anything for my little Harry."

Harry cringed at his old nickname. "Madam, you said it yourself, I'm not little anymore!" he argued.

The woman chortled merrily. "True, my dear, but in my heart you are still our little Harry." Harry growled in response. "Now onto those robes," Malkin chirped. "Mary, you may leave now. I can take care of this customer."

"B-but Auntie, this is Harry Potter! I want his autograph!" the girl exclaimed. She blushed, catching herself on just how loud she had been.

"Mary, no. It's clear he's not comfortable, now go," Malkin scolded, eyeing her disapprovingly.

"Its fine, Madam. I don't mind." The girl brightened at this.

"Now, now, you don't have to do this."

"No, it's fine. If you could supply me with a quill and a parchment, that would be appreciated." In hearing this, Mary immediately provided him with the things he needed.

Unsure of how celebrities would go about doing this, Harry awkwardly signed it with his normal signature and handed the parchment back to Mary. He supposed he did it correctly, given that the girl brightened up at his signature and blushed more hotly than before. Madam Malkin then shooed Mary away, shaking her head in exasperation at her niece's behavior. As Malkin measured Harry up, they chatted about various insignificant things. They discussed how the people in Diagon Alley were shocked after hearing the news of his acceptance to Puddlemere. They chuckled when Malkin described how Mr. Ollivander almost had a heart attack over Harry's accomplishment.

"Well, it's about bloody time someone gave him a fright. He always has a way in surprising his customers by appearing out of nowhere. How he does it, I have no idea, and I was once the victim myself," Harry commented, imagining Ollivander's expression at the news of Harry getting signed to Puddlemere and sniggered at it.

Malkin smiled widely and it faltered after a few moments. "Yes, yes, but we were more shocked about this business with your last name. Potter is a very hard name not to recognize, my dear. Only people who have the brain of a troll have never heard of the Potters."

Harry's smile was gone from his lips. "I'm very sorry for not telling any of you."

"Now, it's not our business to pry, but my dear, have your parents...treated you badly?" she prodded, pinning the fabric up to the correct length. She looked Harry in expectantly.

Harry hesitated, then sent a sad little smile in her direction. "No Madam, they have not. It's just… when you have a famous brother in the family, it's pretty hard to get your parents to notice you, especially if your brother is the defeater of You-Know-Who."

"Oh." This time, there was no smile on Malkin's face. Her lips were pressed tightly. How could a sweet young boy like Harry receive no attention from his parents? Perhaps that was the reason he came to Diagon Alley nearly every day of his childhood.

"Um, Madam?" Malkin snapped out of her thoughts. "If it's fine by you, just keep this between us."

"Of course, my dear. I shall." Malkin smiled at him. "Now, if you don't mind waiting for a little while, I'll see to your robes. You may want to attend to other things, of course."

Harry smiled. "No, I can wait, Madam. I'd like to reminisce. I have some pretty great memories here."

"Very well then." Madam Malkin left Harry to himself as she went off to prepare his robes. Harry looked around him for a second time. He smiled largely. It had been so long since the last time he visited and it felt good to return after all these years.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Harry walked the cobbled streets once more, racking his brain for anything he had forgotten.<p>

He verified the things he bought inside his coat's pockets, taking out the tiny objects and crossing them off his mental list. Harry had shrunk his purchases and placed them inside his coat pockets. This increased his mobility and left his hands free. The last thing he needed was his books. Harry grimaced at reaching Flourish and Blotts and saw the crowds of people crammed inside. He had already been forced to flee every store he went to in the last hour. Each time he was spotted by someone, they blurted out his name, which led to him being swarmed by people asking for his autograph. He didn't realize he was _that_ famous.

Harry recalled the list of the books he had to acquire for the next semester in Hogwarts and scowled. If he had to guess, the Defense Professor was quite a fan of that Lockhart fellow. He looked up at the banner across the window that advertised a Lockhart book signing today and he shook his head. Even he rejected the idea of doing interviews with the media, let alone having autograph sessions with fans. He exhaled a loud frustrated breath and squeezed himself into the crowd. His eyes flashed in recognition as a redheaded boy grabbed his attention. His hair was a deep red, vibrant and lustrous.

He placed his hand on the boy's head. "Look, what the cat dragged in. What are you doing here by yourself, brat?"

The said boy turned his head shakily to look at his brother. "H-harry! H-hey, where were you? W-we were looking for you just now."

"I can see that," Harry muttered, shoving one of the crowd members away from him. "Did you get separated or something? 'Cause if you are, I can throw you into Knockturn Alley. Let's see how many wizards and witches hunger for the blood of the Boy-Who-Lived."

Daniel swallowed fearfully at his brother's words. There was wicked glint in Harry's eyes. "N-no! The Weasleys and our family are here somewhere. It's just t-this crowd. There are so many people, that's all."

"Oh, what a shame..." Harry smirked. "Never mind, another time then."

Harry abandoned his brother there and wandered to the front. Daniel, not seeing any familiar people around him, pursued his brother, taking Harry's left side. They both watched events unfold as Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, playing to the audience. "Well, I must say, I'd actually prefer to see you up there. At least you're not that dramatic." Daniel bobbed his head, making a face as Lockhart smiled to his fans, displaying his white, shiny teeth. Now that Daniel saw it from the crowd's point of view, it seemed kind of ridiculous when he remembered all _his_ poses for the cameras. A short, irritable looking man was flashing his camera on Lockhart. He was dancing around the celebrity, taking Lockhart's pictures.

"Ouch!" Daniel exclaimed, rubbing his foot after the photograph stepped on it. "Bloody, photographer…"

Lockhart heard the shout and turned to the boy. His eyes slid over to Harry and identified him in an instant. The hat was in the way, but Lockhart could see right through it. "Bless my soul. It can't be... Daniel Potter and Harry Potter? The Potter brothers!"

Harry heaved a sigh, and tipped his hat upward to show his face to the crowds. He just wanted to get this over with. Murmurs and whispers of excitement swept through the room. The crowds parted for them. Lockhart, with enthusiasm plastered on his face, dove forward, seizing both Harry's and Daniel's arm. They were both pulled to the front with Lockhart in the middle of them. He slung his arms over their shoulders.

"Nice big smile, boys," whispered Lockhart through his gleaming teeth. "Together, the three of us are worth the front page."

Harry looked bored as the flash blinded him while Daniel's face burned at the suddenness of it all. Harry tried his hardest to not look at the front of the crowd, where he knew his family stood. Rosaline was with them, in his father's arms, giggling at her brothers.

"When both Potter brothers stepped into Flourish and Blotts, they only wanted my autobiography - which I shall be happy to present them with, no charge at all!" The crowds applauded at his announcement. "They had no idea that they will be getting much more than the books." Without breaking eye contact with his audience, Lockhart personally handed all of his works to them. "They and their schoolmates, in fact, will be getting to know a lot more of me! Yes, ladies and gentleman, it is my great pleasure to announce that I will be their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The crowds cheered at this, clapping their hands.

"Uh uh, not bloody likely," Harry hissed, irritation now built up inside him to a breaking point.

Daniel wisely stepped away from Lockhart without anyone noticing. A thought passed through his mind and Harry smirked maliciously. He faced away from his eyes and faked a cough, muttering some spell. Without anyone seeing it, he waved his hand clandestinely and to the crowd's horror, Lockhart was flung from his spot, receiving a hit by unknown strong force. He crashed into one of the bookshelves and then lay immobile as many bookshelves descended onto his fallen form. The silence was shattered by the witches shrieking in terror at the sight of this.

Harry regained his composure. "Mr. Lockhart, sir, are you alright?" He shouted, adjusting the books in his hands.

"Y-yes!" Lockhart croaked, rising from the ground, pushing the books and the broken wood away.

"Forgive my brother. It would seem he has performed accidental magic due to the attention he was getting. You know how young kids are, Mr. Lockhart." Daniel paled at hearing this mischievousness from his brother.

"I-It's okay, my boy. I understand and I forgive your brother!" Harry was impressed with Lockhart, though the man was clearly struggling to rise on his shaking legs. "I've faced much more than this! Never fear, ladies and gentleman, I am fine!"

Harry narrowed his eyes at the man in infuriation, then shifted his gaze to the shelves on top of Lockhart. Inclining his head, his eyes flashed to pure gold and all the shelves began to fall over Lockhart. Hearing the crowds screaming in terror and going over to the badly injured man. Harry took the opportunity to slip away from the store.

"I hope he won't come to Hogwarts with all the injuries he has," Harry murmured.

"Don't you think that was too much?" Daniel almost lost his balance under the weight of the books he was carrying whilst catching up to his brother.

"The least that fraud can do is drop dead and never come anywhere near Hogwarts. He'll do us a favor."

"He's a fraud?" Daniel questioned, mystified.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course he is, brat. The way he's eager to attain that glory of his, it feels like he just wants some fortune and attention from the people. Come on, do we honestly need all these books to learn spells? No, he just wants profit. He's using his position as a Professor to force every kid in Hogwarts to buy his books. I bet he doesn't know any of the spells his books claim he does. He's only got some pretty face and fancy robes to make him popular. Not every book is true, they can be very misleading." Making sure no attention was on them, Harry shrunk the books wandlessly and stuffed them inside his coat's left pocket.

"Um... can you shrink my book too?"

Harry stared at Daniel incredulously. Then, a roguish smirk tugged the corner of his lips. "Sure, brat." He waved his hand over the books and their weight began to grow. Daniel struggled to hold them up, but his efforts were in vain and eventually his body was on the ground. He cursed to himself, making a mental note never to trust his brother to actually comply to a simple request. Daniel fixed his glasses and stood up, brushing the dirt off his cloak. "Here, brat. If I shrink your books, it will make me look suspicious, so I'll just cast a weightless charm on it." Harry dropped all of the seven books into Daniel's hands.

"Bet you two loved that, didn't you, Potters?" They spun around at that voice. Daniel did not have a hard time recognizing it. Harry, on the other hand, frowned and was dumbfounded that someone would talk like that to him. In his life, no one had ever tried to provoke him. "The famous Boy-Who-Lived, Daniel Potter can't even go into a book store without making the front page. And his brother-" Malfoy transferred his attention to Harry, sneering, "The Quidditch superstar, Harry Potter. I bet you cheated your way through Puddlemere. Your family is just a bunch of phony attention seekers. The Potters are all pathetic. Your father even sunk so low as to marry that Mudblood mother of yours."

Harry's grip was on Daniel's right shoulder, restraining him from doing anything rash. "Do you know who you're talking to, Malfoy? Still haven't got enough from the last time?" Harry was referring to the punishment Malfoy got in the Forbidden Forest along with the Gryffindor trio.

Malfoy's face was a nice shade of red, quaking in apparent anger. "My father will hear about that, Potter! You'll get yours soon enough -"

"What are you going to do? Tell your father that I tricked Professor McGonagall into punishing you? Oh, I like to see that. Let's see how much your father believes your word without him thinking you lost your bloody mind. Can't even fight your own battle, how pathetic. What? Have to let your daddy win every fight you're in? You're a disgrace to all Purebloods." Malfoy was rendered speechless, trying and failing to crop up with some clever retort. Harry's eyes narrowed frighteningly. "You'd better watch who you're messing with, Malfoy. I'm nothing like my little brother. You have heard rumors flying around in your house about how I humiliated the upper years when I was only in my first."

"T-that's just lies!" Malfoy roared, gritting his teeth.

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Maybe or maybe not. Don't think that you have Snape watching your back or that I'm afraid to do anything because your father is Lucius Malfoy. If you think they will save you from me then you're deadly mistaken. I don't give a shit about them." Harry glowered the boy terrifyingly. "So don't even mess with me, Malfoy." Daniel was smirking at this, but then lowered his gaze fearfully to the ground when his brother turned his fierce gaze on him.

"Don't think your threats are going to make me fear you! You're not all that! You're nothing but a half-blood to me, Potter!" His tongue was venomous and yet his body was trembling violently.

"He's as thick as the Weasley boy, isn't he?" Harry whispered. "Does he have a brain at all? Can't he see that the Muggleborns are the top students at Hogwarts? Blood doesn't mean anything when it comes to your talents. Guess he's full of himself, huh?"

"Well... Malfoy never learn from his mistakes." Daniel was unwilling to drag Ron into this. "But you're right, he never did have a brain. Yes, he always full of himself. You should've seen how he taunted us everyday at Hogwarts. He'd just pop out of nowhere. It was like he's stalking us or something."

Malfoy was getting angrier by the second. The two brothers were whispering to each other loud enough that he could hear every word, and on top of that, they were speaking as if he wasn't there at all. They even had their backs to him! "Nobody ignore me and gets away with it! Listen to me, Potters!"

Ron, Hermione, and the youngest Weasley appeared, having fought their way over to them, all three clutching Lockhart's books.

"Oh, it's you," said Ron unpleasantly. His gaze shifted to Harry and his frown deepened. "And you."

"Well look who's here, it's the Weasleys! I'm surprised to see your family here. I suppose your parents will go without food for a month after paying for all these things," he snarled, purposely ignoring the Potter brothers. Ron went scarlet, as did his sister, and both were ready to pound the blond boy. Malfoy looked as if he were prepared for it.

"Now, now, Draco, play nicely." It was Lucius Malfoy. He was sneering as he laid his gloved hand on Draco's shoulder. Harry rolled his eyes. It's must be in the blood. Lucius's eyes trailed to the Potter brothers. "Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise. Two famous Potters. We meet at last. Daniel Potter..." His eyes darted darkly to Daniel, then to Harry, "and you must be Harry Potter. I have heard of your latest accomplishment… Congratulations. I'm very impressed."

"Lucius Malfoy, Mr. Potter." Lucius extended his hand and Harry shook it firmly. "My, what a strong hand..." Harry shrugged his shoulder, remarking it was probably from the training he underwent with Puddlemere. Lucius moved his hand to Daniel, and following his brother's example, the younger boy shook Lucius's hand politely. "Forgive me, Mr. Potter." It sounded as if he wasn't sorry at all when he yanked Daniel toward him and examined his scar thoroughly. The books fell to the ground, clattering down. "So this is the scar from You-Know-Who… Your scar is a legend and so as the wizard who gave it to you."

"Obviously," said Harry, violently hauling Daniel back to him. "You do know it's rude to stare at people, especially at such close range, Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes, I'm very much aware of that and what of it?" The twins had now joined the group, observing the scene with interest.

"You know, Mr. Malfoy, I heard from Lord Greengrass that being a Death Eater is an intense experience. I was wondering if you've ever felt the same...but of course, you were under the _Imperius _at the hand of You-Know-Who. I am curious though, as to how the _Imperius _curse works on so many people for a very long period of time. I would've thought that would be impossible, but I suppose I was wrong." Lucius's hand twitched toward his wand. "I hope you're fine with answering my questions, Mr. Malfoy. But, does the mark ever disappear from you? What's the initiation like? I've heard you must execute three awful things in a ritual to receive the mark. How does it feel becoming a Death Eater? Is it...disgusting?"

Malfoy plucked his wand from his cane and he sunk it painfully into Harry's right cheek. The rest of the people around him gasped. "Are you mocking me, Potter?"

"Not quite." Harry thrust his own wand out of his pocket. Lucius glanced below and his face twisted slightly as he realized the wand was aiming at his manhood. Harry smiled grimly, his look was challenging. "I'm just quenching my curiosity, Mr. Malfoy..."

"Malfoy!" James Potter sprang up from Flourish and Blotts along with his wife and the other Weasleys. The Potters were furious that Malfoy was pointing his wand at Harry, who was looking entirely unconcerned. "Drop your wand before I do something far worse to you, Malfoy."

Lucius ignored James, still glaring icily at Harry. "You're quick to react, boy." His voice was a cold hiss.

Harry tucked his wand back under his brown long coat. "Sorry about that… Instinct, Mr. Malfoy." Harry shrugged uncaringly. He brushed off his mother's questions of concern.

"Potter, you'd better teach your son how to watch his tongue. It will be the death of him."

"You should teach yourself not to wave your wand so freely, Malfoy," Lily growled, glaring the man. How dare he? "Especially if that wand ends up pointed at someone who is still a minor and not yet of age. Threatening younglings like that is a serious offence."

"So it would seem..." Lucius reached for Ginny's cauldron, pulling out a very old, very battered book. He was about to say something but decided against it. "Never mind..." Harry's eyes flicked to a new black book in the youngest Weasley's cauldron. People around him were oblivious to it, but he had seen it. "Come Draco, let us leave..." The older man's cold eyes locked onto Harry. "Until we meet again... Harry Potter..."

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy. I'll hold onto that promise. After all, you still haven't answered my questions." There were snickers from the Weasley twins. Daniel was containing his laughter. Lucius's eyes twitched at the blatant mockery, but refrained from reacting to it as he scurried away from the large group.

Draco tried to look superior as he glared at them. "I'll see you at school then, Potters."

Raising an eyebrow, Harry smirked as he eyed the young blond boy. His eyes changed to a deep shade of gold and Draco Malfoy found himself losing his pants. The people in the Diagon Alley laughed boisterously as the boy's face turned a color of red that matched nicely with his underpants. Lucius glared at them and conjured a blanket that Draco frantically wrapped himself in.

Harry dropped his smirk, not joining in the crowd's laughter. He peeked quickly at his family. Shaking off his mother's touch, he walked away from them. "Wait, Harry. Where are you going now?" Lily grabbed his right forearm. Both of his hands were in his pants' pockets.

"Getting the things I bought. You don't mind, do you?" Harry half-lidded eyes looked at her over his shoulder.

"No, I suppose no-"

Harry brusquely cut her off. "Then I'll be on my way and be home later. Let me go. I don't have much time. There are so many places I need to go."

"We'll accompany you. It's not..." Lily trailed off as Harry tiredly sighed. He shook his head, frustrated. He was really starting to get annoyed at his mother's stubborn attempts. This was the final straw.

"Look, I'll be fine by myself. I can look after myself. For God's sake, I'm not three years old anymore. I don't need you mothering me every step I take. I'm fifteen already and I'm used to being independent," Harry practically growled, shoving her arm away from him.

"Young man!" Molly yelled, having watched the scene unfold. "Don't treat your mot-" Harry rolled his eyes and ignored her. Molly was horrified. "Don't turn your back on me!" Harry vanished into the crowd and silence fell over the group.

Handing Rosaline over to Daniel, James suggested everyone meet later in the Leaky Cauldron. He walked over Lily. "Hey love, are you alright?"

"I am..." mumbled Lily dazedly.

"Like I said before, don't give up on him, he'll come around."

"It's not that..."

"Then what is it?" James asked, feeling curious.

"Did you hear Harry say 'God' just then?"

"Yeah..." The realization dawned on him. "You're right, he did say it!"

"Why? I've never heard a wizard or witch say God before. If they do curse, they tend to say 'Merlin' - never 'God'..." Lily looked at her husband, her beautiful face twisted with anxiety. "Do you think he believes in God, James?"

"I-I have no idea, Lily..." said James, his expression now astounded.

"I think our son has more secrets than we thought. He's definitely keeping something from us."

* * *

><p><strong>1 September 1992.<strong>

Harry fastened one button in the middle of his coat, not bothering to do any more. He went over to check his trunk, ensuring that everything he required was packed away. Looking around, he permitted a tiny smile on his lips. Another adventurous summer had passed. Many new things had occurred and he had experienced many new feelings, much unlike the previous summer. If he were to be completely honest with himself, many of these new emotions were thanks to his family.

With one last look, he closed his trunk and began towing it along behind him, with one hand habitually stuffed inside his trouser's pockets. He always did it unconsciously, and was never really sure why. Descending down the stairs, he swerved to his left, turning another corner. Harry allowed himself a sigh of relief. He might just be lucky enough to not encounter anyone else. On his way to the fireplace, however, he stopped suddenly. He had spoken too soon. His father was there by the living room, along with his uncles. Harry grumbled. Of course, such luck would only occur when the Potters are in danger.

Harry frowned, not wanting to deal with this. They were talking amongst themselves, still unaware of Harry's presence. It was only when Harry's trunk producing such squeaky noises did they turned their attention to him. James looked up and was surprised to see his son had already prepared to go. He took note of his Muggle clothing and the luxurious coat his son tended to wear all the time. He noticed Harry didn't wear that hat of his on now. He had learned this summer that his son took pleasure in dressing in the Muggles' fashion, much unlike the common magical folks with their cloaks and robes.

"Harry!" James voice echoed around the room. "You're up early today. You're going to the train already?"

"...No," Harry said calmly. Inwardly, his emotions were in a raging wild storm.

"Then where are you going, cub?" Remus inquired, sparing James another round of questioning.

Harry scowled slightly at the way he was being addressed. Soothing himself, he stared hard at the werewolf. "That's not any of your concern, is it?"

Remus was taken aback at that. "Umm... no, it isn't..." he finished awkwardly.

"Then don't ask," Harry growled lowly, but loud for them to hear. He was sick of being somebody he was not whenever he was in front of them.

Sirius was oblivious to Harry's frostiness. "Come on pup, lighten up! We just wanna know where you're heading, nothing wrong with that." The grin on Sirius' face faded once Harry's gaze pierced through him.

"First of all, it's none of your concern," Harry repeated. "Second of all, I go wherever I like without any of your permission. It's been like that for years. And finally, I don't do silly nicknames. It just annoys me out of my bloody mind. I have a name of my own. I'm not some kind of dog for you to call me 'pup' or some kind of wild wolf for you to call me 'cub.'" Harry glanced at his werewolf of an uncle and was dourly pleased with his reaction. "I'm a human being with a magical core - my kind can be referred to as magical folk - so don't go around nicknaming me when I have my own real name to use. Even the people I'm close to never call me such ridiculous names. Don't even go there..."

"Harry... I'm just worried where you're heading at this hour," James said, taking a step in front of his old mates.

After a while, Harry chose to respond due to his father's looks. "To the Greengrass', I-"

"Greengrass!" Sirius bellowed. "Harry, the Greengrass is a dark family with many dark secrets. They're notorious for their knowledge of dark magic. They may have been neutral in the first war but it won't be long before they choose a side and mark my words, it won't be the light one."

Remus nodded his head, his face was grim. "Lord Greengrass may be constantly avoiding any unnecessary conflicts so that his record appears clean, but there's no denying he is a powerful man with a strong political influence. His family has always been wealthy, but that hasn't stopped the rumors. There was once word flying around that Malfoy and Nott had tried to recruit him."

"Exactly-"

"That's enough," Harry hissed coldly, and unconsciously his eyes turned to gold. The room began to tremble violently and the three adults had to grab on something to prevent themselves from falling to the ground. This went on for several minutes before the color of Harry's eyes reverted back to normal and the quaking stopped. Lily, with her robe wrapped around her body, entered the living room. Her panicked expression was detectable, but she wisely kept her mouth shut and stood watching all four males.

"You have no idea what you're talking about. Don't go around spouting garbage when you haven't got any clue about them," Harry whispered dangerously. "The Black family is widely known to have been dark for many generations, but I don't suppose you're going to go around using spells to hurt people now, are you?" Sirius slowly shook his head, lowering his gaze to the floor. "Then next time, don't say anything if you haven't got the chance to look at yourself in the mirror."

Harry furiously shifted to his next victim. "And for someone who always avoiding society and the ministry, then don't dare go around talking as if he knows everything about what goes on in the Wizarding world. Lord Greengrass himself told me that he rejected the offer of becoming a Death Eater, wishing for his family to be no part of such cruelty. He doesn't want his daughters to grow up, knowing he's an evil person and hurting the innocents. He simply wants to live peacefully with his family, and he's disgusted at how Death Eaters do things. He's never had anything against Muggles or Muggleborns. He actually welcomes them and sees them as his equals. He's taken a great deal of interest in Muggles' culture, unlike any of you. Did you put in the amount of effort he does? Of course not." Remus shamefully faced away from him. "Next time, think before you speak. You both sounded like Malfoys, their family is about the superiority of blood and their nonsense agenda, and you two judge people by titles without knowing who they really are. It's all the same to me."

Sirius slouched on the sofa, hearing those words in his head over and over again. Remus was avoiding eye contact with Harry. Both adults took the words harshly. Harry turned to his father and his expression softened a little. "I made a promise with Lady Greengrass and I don't have any desire to break the promises I make. She's been treating me kindly all this time and I can't bear to see the look of hurt if I go back on my word." James nodded his head slightly, offering his son a small smile.

"Then I ought to be off now." He looked at his mother over his shoulder. With reluctance, he mumbled, "...I'll see you two next year."

Harry grabbed a fistful of glittering powder from the flower pot on the mantle and tossed it into the fireplace, crying out his destination. Throwing himself to the brilliant green flames, he was swallowed by them. Silence conquered the room, each was astonished at what had just happened. This was the first time Harry had ever reacted like that to any of them. The magic he performed earlier was completely forgotten from their mind as they were more fixated on his words. Their minds were only replaying his words over and over again.

James was the first to speak. "Lily, go back into the kitchen and I'll wake the kids up."

Numbly, Lily nodded her head and sighed wearily to herself. She exited the living room, her mind repeating Harry's words. James looked at his two best mates and shook his head before making his way to the children's bedroom. They thought it would be easy for them to enter Harry's life after all these years? How naïve of them. Even he and his wife, Harry's parents, had no luck. Anyone could see that Harry was fed up with faking a sweet smile all the time, and the adults insulting the Greengrass' was all it took for him to snap.

* * *

><p>"Are all of your things set, Harry? Do you need more galleons?" Elizabeth fussed over him, brushing some imaginary dust from his shoulder.<p>

Harry's cheeks tinged. "Um...y-yes, Lady Greengrass, everything is in order and no, I already brought enough galleons with me. Thank you for your offer." Half an hour later, he and the Greengrass' departed to King's Cross station.

"Mother, it would appear you have forgotten your daughter again," Daphne spoke in a sickeningly sweet voice. "Your daughter is going to Hogwarts too. Are you certain you do not wish to bid her goodbye? You're not going to see her for virtually a year, or perhaps much longer than that if she chose to run away. She's very annoyed with you at the moment. Did you know that? If not, I could send a message to her."

Her jealousy of the attention Harry was receiving, was obvious.

Elizabeth's back straightened and she shakily spun around to face her daughter, emitting a few uneasy chuckles under her breath. "Of course not, Daphne... How could I have forgotten my own daughter? That would be very unlikely and very irresponsible of me. Is everything in place, love?" Daphne glowered at her mother, her arms crossed. Elizabeth shuddered in nervousness. "How about money? Do you have enough? I could provide you more…" Elizabeth meekly trailed off, her voice getting lower and lesser by the second.

Harry suppressed a quiet chuckle. It was as if their positions were swapped. Daphne was the mother and Elizabeth was the daughter. Elizabeth was looking as if she was caught stealing cookies. She was shuffling anxiously under her daughter's hard gaze. Looking up, however, she grinned, trying to coax a smile onto her daughter's face. Daphne just scoffed and harrumphed childishly, head turning away from her mother. Though not before Harry glimpsed a small smile on her lips.

"Go on, just ask him. You can do it, my sweet." Harry's ears perked up at William's voice.

"U-um H-H-Harry..." someone squeaked, stuttering. Harry reeled his attention to the source and amusedly stumbled upon Astoria holding a parchment and a quill already soaked in ink.

"My autograph?" said Harry with mirth in his eyes.

She was quivering while nodding her head. Daphne had notified him of Astoria's pathetic attempts to get his autograph during the summer and how she had failed miserably, losing her courage at every chance. And now, Harry took pity on the girl. There wouldn't be any opportunity for her to ask for his autograph since she wouldn't be seeing him again for at least a year. Harry gently pried the parchment and quill from the little girl's hands. He signed it in his fancy calligraphy signature.

Harry gave the girl back her items. "This is exclusive, Tori. This is the first autograph I've signed willingly. Usually, if it happens, it's an obligation, so this one is very special. It's only for you." Harry winked. If anyone were to stroke the little girl's face, they'd discover it was red hot. Astoria nearly fainted, but fortunately William was behind her, smiling out of amusement, and he grasped her shoulders steadily.

The Hogwarts Express train blew out a low whistle, shooting out its warning. The train still won't leave for about seventeen more minutes, but both teenagers opted to head off to meet with their friends. Elizabeth ushered them to the nearest entrance of the train, where they exchanged their goodbyes. Elizabeth had given both teens her gentle warm hug. William did the same, though only shook hands with Harry. The only time William had ever hugged Harry was when he won the British and Irish league. It had been a very enthusiastic hug, but it had still been awkward.

"He's stealing mother's affection from me," Daphne mumbled to herself, loud for Harry's ears. "He is. I just know it."

"Jealous much?" Harry tenderly poked one of the beautiful blond girl's cheeks.

They were trudging their way through the suffocating corridor of the train, searching for any sign of their friends.

"I haven't got the faintest clue what you're on about, Potter," spat Daphne, acting as if she was insensible to all of it.

"Yeah, sure you are, Daph," spoke Harry casually. "Whatever you say..."

She stopped, turning her body to him, her cold, mesmerizing green eyes darting to his. "Just drop it," She growled menacingly. Circling around, she strode away from him. Every step she took was a stomp on the floor of the train and people fearfully cleared out the way for the Ice Princess of Slytherin. It was no adventure if the anger of the beautiful girl was directed at you. If one was ever encountered, it was best to flee. Harry smirked, stalking his best friend from behind. He had to deliberately lug behind Daphne so as to not let anyone recognize him. He got trouble with his newfound fame anywhere he went, so it wouldn't be much of a surprise if the students started to swarm him if his presence was acknowledged.

So far, he had been lucky - no one had noticed Harry Potter - and Harry planned to keep it that way. He didn't fancy pushing his luck. Seeing Daphne enter one of the compartments, he waited a while to avoid arousing suspicious, and subsequently he crept inside. By now, he could identify the rest of the girls, clad in their own attire, still not in school robes. "Harry!" the girls chorused, all except for Daphne, who lounged on her usual seat, next to the window, and refused to grace him with not even a glance.

"Oof..." Harry stumbled backwards once he was enveloped by Sheila's fierce hug.

Pushing her off him, he raised an eyebrow. "Must you do that every time?"

"Of course!" Sheila grinned, making it sound as if it were obvious.

Regine embraced him as well, laughing. "Don't you get that a lot?" She smiled knowingly.

"I guess..." Harry shared her smile.

Callista took Regine's place, smiling ever so gently at him. "I hope you're in good health, Harry." She broke the hug and her smile wavered.

Harry wasn't paying heed to her anymore, lost in his own thoughts. His eyes were misty, falling into some sort of trance. Good health? Physically, he was fine, but mentally, he was as far from good as he could ever be. Harry was stunned at how his family was treating him. They had never bothered to look at him twice, so why now? Was it because of his fame? No, that wasn't it, his parents had been eccentric as far back as King's Cross, then throughout the end of the summer. It was giving him migraine at the mere thought of it, and his emotions were flaring. The girls exchanged glances, aware of what that look meant. It had happened so many times during the summer, yet he had never talked about it with them.

"Harry?" Regine endeavored to shake him out his stupor, her hand squeezing his shoulder lightly. Nothing. Callista grasped both of his shoulders and tried shaking him gently, not having any desire for him to be angry with her. "Harry?" Harry shook his head a bit, clearing his mind. His eyes fluttered at the sight of the girls, who were all concerned. Even Daphne had risen from her seat.

"I need to sit," Harry whispered softly.

The magic he unconsciously used that had shaken the Potter mansion earlier that day had now begun to affect him deeply. Thinking about his family seemed to make his body aware that he just utilized a lot of magic an hour ago. He wobbled his way to a seat with Sheila and Callista by his sides, aiding him. Regine sealed the compartment's door behind them, not desiring to attract any unneeded attention. Daphne dealt with his trunk with the assistance of her wand. Harry collapsed to the seat across Daphne's, next to the window.

"Harry, are you well?" Callista knelt in front of him, truly worried. All of them are. He had never before seemed this fragile.

Harry massaged his temples, struggling to jam those thoughts to the back of his mind. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's nothing to worry about."

Sheila opened her mouth to protest but Daphne shook her head, indicating that it wasn't the right time. Sheila grudgingly accepted this. Silently, the girls took their seats in the compartment, all the while watching Harry. Still kneading his temples, he moaned lightly. His head hung in the air and his back was bent forward. Why life must be complicated? Why couldn't it be simple? His parents might have reasons as to why they all of a sudden cared about him. He wasn't sure about his uncles, but Harry could easily assume they just started to talk with him because of the news with Puddlemere United. If not for that, they still wouldn't notice his existence.

"Anyway…" Harry shattered the silence, raising his head and leaning his back onto the comfy seat. "I have bad news to tell you all. I'm going to be a prefect. I got a letter from McGonagall informing me of one."

"How is that bad news? That's good news, Harry!" exclaimed Callista excitedly, her azure eyes sparkling in joy. By now, the girl had forgotten Harry's bizarre behavior.

"I take it you're a prefect yourself?"

"Of course!" She proved it by showing him her badge. The smile on Callista's lips nearly split her face into two.

"Callista, I'm a prefect too! This is great! I received a letter from Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout, but my head house was for a private congratulation," Regine stated, grinning widely. Callista squealed, hugging her friend enthusiastically. She was delighted to say the least.

"Good luck on patrolling the castle then. I am going to miss all the fun now. Oh, how unlucky I am," Daphne said sarcastically. "No doubt you have to babysit all the younger students as well."

"Wait, you're not a perfect, Daph?" Sheila burst out unexpectedly. The occupants in the compartment jolted a little.

Daphne sighed, examining her well-manicured nails. "No, I'm not. It's not that surprising, Jonnet. May I interrogate you as to why you are so interested with this piece of information? Don't you feel the least bit sad that I didn't get picked?" Her gaze was intense causing the perky girl to wriggle anxiously in her seat. It didn't help she was sitting next to Daphne.

"Well... I-I u-um j-just, y-y-you know…" Sheila stammered. "N-not that I'm happy, Daph. I-it's j-j-just u-um shocked… yeah, that's right! Just shocked! I was so sure you would get the post."

Callista was so overwhelmed by the fact that her best friend couldn't be a prefect that she didn't see through Sheila's act. "I agree, Daphne. I was confident you'd get it, considering you're-" Abruptly, she bit her tongue to keep from spilling anymore words. Callista caught on to what her best friend was implying. Daphne made eye contact with Callista, doggedly flicking her eyes back and forth from her to Sheila.

"What? What is it?"

Callista was taken aback at this, obviously this whole prefect thing had disturbed Sheila. Callista knew why. Sheila constantly felt incomparable to the group in terms of intelligence. She always knew she couldn't hold a candle to the rest in terms of intelligence, and exam results always proved this. Bringing the subject up had hit the girl's nerve. Callista was nervous as to what to say to her other best friend. She didn't want to sadden Sheila further. What should she do?

Suddenly, Harry moaned perceptibly and everyone's full attention shifted over to him. He clutched the sides of his head with both hands as if a thousand needles had struck his brain. His body bent forward. The girls frantically rushed to his side, all steadying him. He winced every now and then. They began shouting his name, repeatedly asking him of his health. All of a sudden, a low chuckle escaped Harry's mouth, quickly turning to full blown laughter.

"I-I can't believe you four fell for that…" Harry choked. "T-that was priceless"

"That was not funny, Harry!" Callista was horrified.

Regine repetitively hit his right shoulder. "The only thing it did was scare us to death, you jerk!" Harry tried to avoid her attacks, but his efforts were futile. His Hufflepuff friend was sitting right beside him.

"I say we throw him out of the train for that hoax," Daphne hissed viciously. "Agreed?"

"I can't argue with that!" Sheila spoke through gritted teeth. "Conjure a rope and tie him up, just to make sure he doesn't escape!"

"Whoa, whoa! Hold it!" Harry spluttered, still madly chortling. He held his hands in the air, waving them rapidly in defensive gesture. "That's too far! I was just trying to lighten up mood!" Sheila conjured a thick rope, clutching one end while Daphne gripped the other. "You aren't serious, are you? I was only kidding!" He backed away from the girls, still laughing.

Callista reappeared on his left side, cutting him off. "The concept of what happens to a person after falling from a speeding train might be worth experimenting. And we thought you would be the perfect test subject..." His laughter gradually receded.

"Just relax, Harry, you won't feel a thing." Regine clutched his right side, holding him down. "We promise we'll take good care... of your soulless body."

"This will be swift, Potter... no one will know, we assure you..." Daphne's face was glee, full of wickedness.

"Yeah... there is nothing to worry about, Harry," Sheila whispered, grinning devilishly. "You won't be found by anyone. Not a single person."

Their eyes gleamed in malicious intent. Harry gulped, beads of sweat were forming on his forehead.

"Can we talk about this?" he squeaked timidly. "Someone help me..."

The act was spoiled when Regine couldn't restrain her laughter any longer. This lead to all girls doing the same. They clasped their stomachs, taking to their seats once more so that they wouldn't fall flat on their butt. Now it was Harry's turn to be mad.

"That was not funny! My heart almost burst! You girls would have been responsible for my death if it were really to happen!"

That just escalated their laughter, drawing their own tears of mirth. Harry let out a slight chuckle, reflecting that it was a little amusing. At least, they forgot the incident that had happened minutes ago. The moment dwindled away when the cabin's door slid open with a bang. Percy Weasley raised an eyebrow at the sight of the occupants of the compartment. He cleared his throat noisily to get their attention. Harry scowled at him. The guy had a great deal of nerve coming here. No one ever disturbed them.

"Is there something we can help you with,_ Percy_?"

Percy was already dressed in his Hogwarts attire with his prefect badge pinned to his robe. "It's none of your concern, Potter," Percy sniffed haughtily.

"I think it's every bit of his concern since he's in this compartment with us," Daphne spoke mildly, glaring at the guy, her protective side surfacing.

"What are you doing here anyway? All the students know we wish to be left alone," Regine piped, her tone rather unwelcoming. "We'd rather have an undisturbed train ride."

He pointedly overlooked the two girls and moved to Callista. "I came here to inform you of the prefect meeting, Callista."

"Oh, right!" Callista erupted. "I seem to have forgotten all about it."

"And that is why I'm here to inform you the meeting is about to commence. It's best we head over."

An awkward silence filled the room.

"Why are you still here?" Harry asked. "You can go now. You told us what you needed to."

Percy narrowed his eyes. "Also, I wish to escort you to it, Callista."

"She doesn't require an escort, Weasley." Percy pursed his lips, throwing a glance of distaste at the Slytherin girl.

"Yeah, Callista can take care of herself. She's not a little girl anymore, Percy," Sheila backed up her friend.

"And if it's fine with you, we'd like to have a conversation of our own first. The other prefects can wait a little bit, Weasel," Harry added nonchalantly. He fluttered his eyes innocently at his mistake. "Oh, I mean Weasley. Sorry about that. Mistakes happen to all of us, I suppose."

There were giggles from all four girls and Percy's gaze hardened. Harry didn't appear to be sorry at all.

"Well then, it's rude for you to just stand there when we clearly told you that we wanted to have our conversation in private," Regine said politely, smiling at the redhead. "Callista will be fine. Me and Harry are also prefects, so we can protect her from you." Regine flushed. "I-I-I m-m-mean _for_ y-you..."

Harry jumped to his feet and smirked. "See you later at the meeting then, Weasel." Harry was about to shut the door, but paused and faced Percy. "Oh, I'm sorry, I mean Weasley. I don't know why I keep saying Weasel." And he slammed the door in Percy's face. Flustered, Percy glared Harry one last time before dragging his feet to where the meeting was being held. Harry spun around, scratching the back of his head in confusion. "What was that all about?"

Regine looked Callista knowingly. "Oh, I think we know."

"Don't you start, Regine Barberis!" Callista pointed her finger threateningly at her grinning friend.

"It's just that Percy fancies Callista," Sheila whispered not-so-quietly to Harry.

Harry choked in disbelief. "W-What?"

"Sheila Jonnet!" Callista roared. Daphne was chuckling noiselessly to herself, twisting her face away from them. Callista rounded on her Slytherin friend and fumed, "Daphne Greengrass! You're supposed to support me, not encourage them!"

Regine went to sit in the middle of Daphne and Sheila. "Percy likes Callista, Percy likes Callista," Regine and Sheila started to chant in a sing-song voice, not caring that they were being childish. Daphne didn't provide Callista much assistance as she kept on laughing, concealing it behind her hand.

"That's enough, you two, or else!" Callista snapped irritably. The two girls just burst into fits of chuckles. "You all know that I don't like him! The only reason I put up with him is out of politeness and nothing more! He's far from my 'favorite people' list!"

"How does he even know you? He never talked to you at all." Harry's voice was full of amusement.

"Ugh! Not you too, Harry!" Callista snapped, before sighing exasperatedly. She put up a cute perplex expression. "I don't know. He just kept sending me letters this summer. I don't even have any interest in what he talks about. All the things he wrote were rubbish to me. I only replied to him because I was raised to be polite. If not, I wouldn't bother sending him anything. Everything he cares about is not at all relevant to my life or my goals. It's just makes me dislike him more. If I didn't know any better, I say he's aiming to become the Minister for Magic."

"Yeah, y-you're right," Sheila choked between her laughter. "Percy has always been ambitious."

"Ambitious? Jonnet, you're going easy on him." Daphne smirked. "What you mean is outright _insane._ That guy is taking all necessary measures, achieving what he wants no matter what it takes, whether it's the right thing to do or it's the wrong thing to do. I bet every last galleon in my possession that in the near future he'll throw everything away and stamp everything in his path to fulfill that ambition of his. It will destroy him."

"Makes me wonder why he's in Gryffindor," Regine mused. "I always thought he would be more suited to Slytherin."

Three girls sent a knowing looks in Callista's direction, all smiling teasingly. Callista just glared her best friends in return.

"Okay, okay, putting all of this aside, I think the three of us should go to the meeting now. Everyone is waiting," Harry asserted, receiving nods from his two friends. Sheila chortled to herself and her friends looked at her strangely. "What's gotten your knickers in a twist now?"

"It's nothing, Harry, I was just remembering the time when Callista gave us permission to reply to one of Percy's letters for her." Sheila cackled madly, struggling her very best to control it. "The three of us just wrote everything we could come up with that's favorable in his letters but still, Percy believed every word of it. We even convinced Elizabeth to charm our writing into Callista's style. I swear that woman just loves doing mischievous stuff."

"I remember that!" Regine exclaimed merrily. She placed the back of her right hand on her forehead as she swooned. "It was a sign! A sign of his love for Callista! He conveyed his love through letters! Oh, so romantic..."

Sheila caught Regine's fallen form, grinning. "He fights for his love! Destroying the obstacles that lay ahead of them! Her friends have come in between them and now, they have to find a way to unite their love once more!" she carried on her relentless teasing.

Daphne grinned. "Now, the guilt strikes me for obstructing their everlasting love. I should know better than to interfere and thus, I have come to a decision that I shall not hinder their love again!" She just couldn't resist it.

Three girls afterwards sighed dreamily before bursting to another round of laughter, and even Harry had a hard time not chuckling at that.

"Oh, you three are impossible!" Callista huffed in indignation, propelling Harry out of the way and marching furiously away from them.

"H-hey Callista, wait up!" Regine was still laughing whole-heartedly, rushing to follow her friend.

Harry merely shook his head, amused, and trailed behind two girls.

* * *

><p>Both girls' arms looped around Harry and the guy didn't mind the gesture. In fact, he welcomed it, thinking this was how girls treated their close male friends in such manner and this only enforced the bond he had with the girls.<p>

"This is uncalled for, Harry," Regine commented, chuckling. "You decided to abandon our duty and just go back to our compartment?"

"I really don't care about this prefect stuff."

Callista smiled. "Yes, you're breaking few rules, I reckon. You dragged us both from the meeting to patrol the train with you, completely ignoring several protests from the others, including one Cedric Diggory, whose partner is Regine."

Harry shrugged. "I couldn't care less. Besides, you both keep anyone from approaching me." It was true. The presence of the two girls caused most of Harry's fans to back away. It was mostly due to the terrifying looks both girls gave out whenever his fans neared him. Harry guessed their facial lessons with Daphne during the summer had paid off.

"But I have to say, thanks for the save. Cedric is nice, but sometimes I just get fed up with him." Regine smiled appreciatively.

"Me too. I don't feel comfortable around Weasley. Oh wait, its Percy..." Callista joked.

The two girls giggled at this and Harry smiled at her attempt. They successfully made it to the compartment without having to deal with anyone. Harry was thankful for that. As the three walked in, they were met with the sight of Daphne and Sheila playing a game of Muggle cards.

"I'm surprised both of them are still in one piece," Harry murmured.

"Hah!" cried Sheila, triumphant. "I win again, Daph!"

Daphne's hands were holding the cards in the air and her face burned red in anger. "I demand a rematch!"

"Sure." Sheila grinned brightly.

"How in Merlin's name are you so good, Jonnet? Callista taught us these Muggle's cards during the summer and may I remind you it was not that long ago."

Sheila shuffled the cards accordingly. "It's a secret, Daph…" She winked at her, giggling mysteriously.

This caused more anger to steam out of the blond girl.

"I want to play too," Regine chimed in. Her face then became strictly solemn. Regine's competitive side suddenly emerged. "And this time, I won't lose to you, Jonnet!"

Sheila just grinned at this. "Dream on, Barberis!"

"You shouldn't teach them those card games. Look at them, they're addicted!"

Callista shrugged, smiling gently. "It's better for them to have a wide knowledge of both worlds, even if some of the knowledge is just a mindless game to kill time." She folded her long sleeves and roared, "Hey, don't forget about me and you three are going down this time!" She walked over to them with determination shimmering her eyes.

Harry rolled his eyes and went to sit in his previous seat, ignoring their trash talking. Honestly, sometimes he just didn't understand them at all. Pulling his hat off his head, he ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it lazily. He rested his hat on his knees. As he watched the scenery outside the window, he slowly drifted into slumber.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe our luck," said Ron. "I thought we were done for."<p>

"So did I..." Daniel murmured, stopping abruptly.

Ron was about to continue, but clicked his tongue as their path to the Gryffindor common room was blocked by a very familiar person lounging back against the wall. Emerald eyes flickered to them before the figure discreetly pulled out a wand. Smirking, he launched a stunner in the Weasley's direction. The redheaded boy was thrown backwards and he hit the wall, sliding down as he fell to a state of unconsciousness. Daniel frantically rushed to Ron's side, whipping out his own wand to try to aid him. Before he could do that, however, his wand was already in the hand of their assailant.

"Whoops, I didn't mean to put any power into that spell." His voice was more amused than apologetic.

Daniel stood up with bemused expression as he identified the person. "Harry."

"So good of you to know your own kin, brat." Looking at the Weasley boy, Harry scratched the back of his head lazily. "Sorry about him. I was thinking of just putting him to sleep, but the idea of stunning him tempted me so much that I went for it."

"If I didn't know you better, I say that's what was on your mind from the beginning."

Harry arched an eyebrow and he pointed two wands at his little brother. Daniel blanched, whimpering a bit as he staggered backwards until his back pressed flatly against the wall. "Now that's the reaction I'm looking for. So, what's this about? The rumors say you and the Weasley boy have been using flying cars to get to Hogwarts."

"I-It's n-nothing." Daniel was more worried about the two wands trained on him.

Harry stepped closer, expression was more or less threatening. "Nothing, you say? If it's anything to do with the Potters' pride and honor then it is something, so speak up!" he barked.

"I-i-it's the barrier! We couldn't get through it! It sealed and prevented us from passing through to the other side!"

"Are you sure this isn't just some excuse?"

Daniel shook his head rapidly. "I swear it's not! If it was a lie then we would have been expelled."

Harry changed back into his bored expression, moving the two wands away from his little brother.

"Well, it's a shame you didn't get expelled. I was kind of hoping for that." Daniel bristled at his brother's taunt. "Tell me this, though why didn't you use your owl to send for help?" Daniel opened his mouth to answer, but Harry forestalled it. "Wait, the answer is obvious: _you didn't use your brain_."

Daniel's face was flushed red, averting his eyes from his brother. "Look at me, brat." He complied, but then regretted it in an instant as the look he received from his brother was frightening. "What you did was a disgrace. Tell me, do you want to disgrace our family that much?"

"N-no-"

Harry narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Then why the hell did you do that? Didn't I gave you plenty hints before? Without using that thick brain of yours, you won't accomplish anything in this world. But no, you had to be the typical Gryffindor and just charge straight ahead." His little brother started to protest. "Or you agreed easily to whatever this idiot asked you to," Harry interrupted, kicking the Weasley boy in the leg to make his point.

"Listen brat," Harry began again. "You're lucky our grandfather is dead. You want to know why? He's a proud Potter, perhaps the most proud Potter I have ever met, and during his life, he expected more and more from our family. He's probably rolling around in his grave right now because of what you've done today. It's humiliating and his pride has probably been demolished by his one foolish grandson."

Daniel lowered his gaze shamefully. "Maybe the students here are very much impressed and have saluted you for what've you done, I bet the Gryffindors will be giving you a storm of applause when you get to your common room, but this is about our family's pride and our grandfather. I know what our grandfather was like and I remember every bit of him. He took down twenty-one Death Eaters all by himself before the Killing Curse struck him down and at that, he was a very old man. Don't you feel the least bit of proud of what he's done?"

"I'm sorry..." Daniel muttered sincerely. "I already got enough yelling from mom… well, not in person, but the letters made it feel like it was meant to be like that."

Harry was surprised to learn that piece of information. "She's angry? What about our-" he swallowed, finding hard to say the word. "... father?"

"Yeah, she's very much disappointed in me and dad was pretty upset. He blamed himself for what I did today, saying it's his fault because of how big-headed he was when he was young and that, his trait passed onto me. Thank Merlin they didn't send me a howler. That would have been more embarrassing."

Harry's forehead creased as he mulled over his parents' actions. Guess he didn't know them that well after all. And it made sense, the only method he had for getting to know his parents, including his little brother, was observing them from afar. He supposed being observant wasn't all you had to do - interactions were just as important. He sighed inaudibly, if only his parents didn't neglect him or forget him. He looked at Daniel, seeing his little brother feeling truly guilty for what he'd done.

"I heard you were in the top ten of your year." Daniel looked up and nodded his head. "Then improve more. This year, I want to see you in the top five or, even better, the top three. We Potters are very extraordinary in our own way and different from the others. Purebloods envy our family, and that's why we were high up on Voldemort's hit list. We are powerful and wealthy. Look, I don't know the deep history of our family but I know we're the descendants of a very powerful wizard, and from what I have observed, the Potters are a very special family. We're very fortunate. And just like every Potter, we have one thing in common. Do you know what that is?"

Daniel shook his head. "Adventure. Our first instinct has always been curiosity, and that curiosity has always led us to one hell of an adventure. We won't rest until we quench our curiosity." Harry politely handed his brother's wand back. "Just remember that, brat. Show me why you've been selected as a Potter and what it means to be one. You can start by improving your studies. If you put in more effort, I'm sure you can beat most of the smart ones, including Hermione. I did. So stop fooling around, and start improving yourself more and more."

Harry raised his hand and whacked his brother's head. "Ouch, what was that for?"

"For not using your brain..." With that, Harry began whistling a familiar tune and strolled away from his little brother.

Daniel's eyes lingered in the place Harry had disappeared, feeling a new motivation stirring inside him. He pointed his wand at Ron and mumbled, "_Renervate_." Daniel had taken the advice of his brother and he had stopped shouting out his spells. He had improved to the point were he could wordlessly cast a few spells.

Ron regained consciousness. "Whhaatt...?" he said stupidly.

"Come on Ron, we need to get back to our dormitory. It's getting late." Daniel pulled his best mate up.

"What happened?"

"We're in a hurry and you hit your head pretty hard."

"Blimey, I need to watch where I'm going."

"Yeah, you do that." Daniel grinned. "Now let's go."


	13. Chapter 12, Season 2

**Chapter 12.**

**12 September 1992.**

Harry and his companions were all gathered in the library at their usual table. All Professors did an excellent job of handing the students a lot of work, even if it was only the second week of the semester. Harry, however, felt more like complaining about something else. The girls completely ignored this as they had been enduring his complaints for the past two weeks. Harry's constant grumbling about his recent fame and the fans who flocked to him, was getting on their nerves.

"Potter, for the last time, stop carping about your fame." Daphne was struggling exceedingly hard to read her book. "If you don't shut it, I'll hex you. Don't tempt me. I swear I'll do it!"

Harry banged his head on the table and the girls winced. "But what am I supposed to do? Come on, you girls! Help me here. I'm in a crisis and I'm desperate. I haven't had a day without anyone asking for my autograph. There's no peace in Hogwarts for me, not in the common room, library, or our private place by the lake!"

"For the last time, Harry…" Regine began exasperatedly.

"We don't know!" the girls voiced in unison.

Harry brooded at their response. "Fine then! Don't help me. Am I the only one who cherishes four years of beautiful friendship? Glad to know it means something to you girls."

"Oh Harry, you're being dramatic." Callista leaned closer to Regine, presenting her parchment to her friend. "Regine, would you mind checking my Herbology work?"

"Sure, why not."

"I am not…" Harry scoffed, scowling. The girls hoisted their heads up at him with challenging looks, evidently not believing his words. "Okay, fine! I guess I am being dramatic but I blame Sheila for giving me her disease!"

"Hey!" the Gryffindor girl exclaimed in a low tone. "I'm not the one who keeps whining about fame." Tongue cutely poking out of the corner of her mouth, she focused on her parchment once more. She had been working on it for the last hour.

"Look, Potter, why don't you just finish your work? That way, your mind will be on something else and not your silly problem." Fully engrossed in her book, Daphne didn't bother to look up. A furious scowl etched onto her beautiful face.

"No, I won't do it unless you girls give me some advice concerning this predicament I'm in," Harry said stubbornly. "Or solve it for me!"

The girls heaved a faint sigh. Now they were dealing with a childish Harry. They swear they spoiled him too much for his own good.

"Harry, if you keep doing this, you're just going to cause us even more trouble," chided Regine.

"Trouble?" Harry said rhetorically with incredulous look on his face. "How the hell did I cause you girls trouble? You girls are exaggerating."

"Yes, no trouble at all," Callista grumbled, shooting him a glare. "What would you call the event that occurred in our Charms lesson?"

* * *

><p>"I mean, don't they have a life to get on with?" Harry interlocked his fingers together and rested his hands on the table. "They're like a flock of stubborn geese that keep coming after me, all for the sake of my autograph. How am I supposed to deal with that?"<p>

"I don't know, Harry…" Callista tucked her hair behind her left ear, wearing a rare a scowl on her face. They were both in Charms together, just like all of their previous years at Hogwarts. Callista was furiously scribbling notes, trying to take in everything Professor Flitwick was saying, but with Harry at her side constantly cursing his fame, it was quite a difficult task for her.

"Harry, just stop with this nonsense and jot down what the Professor is saying," Callista whispered, trying her hardest not to be mad at her friend. "It's important for you to concentrate. We're facing O.W.L next year!"

Harry tapped his wand on her parchment. The words Callista had been writing for the last hour materialized over Harry's blank parchment. He waved his wand and it changed into his writing, unmindful to his friend bristling next to him, looking furious. Callista had worked hard on those notes and he thought he could just copy it all? Typical Harry. When Harry continued on talking, entirely disregarding what had just transpired, Callista snapped.

"Harry Potter!" she hollered, rising from her seat.

As she was about to reprimand him, "Ms. Campbell!" Flitwick shouted. Eyes huge, she faced the diminutive Professor. By the looks of it, the tiny man was furious with her behavior, shocked that she would interrupt such an important lesson. The Charms Professor scuttled over to where she and Harry were seated.

"Ms. Campbell, what is the meaning of this? Why are you disturbing my class?"

"U-um w-well P-p-Professor, you see, uh…" She flushed, truly embarrassed.

The Professor shook his head at one of his favorite students. "It is truly a shame and disheartening that I must do this, mainly for a clean and spotless record in a student such as yourself, but you leave me no choice. Ten points from Ravenclaw for your behavior, and a day of detention. I hope that, in the near future, you learn from your mistake and never disrupt my lesson again. If this is to occur again, I might just have to cast a silencing charm on you, Ms. Campbell." Flitwick scurried back to the front of the room, ready to begin his class yet again.

Callista crumpled to her seat, a mixture of shock and disbelief plastered on her face.

* * *

><p>"It was just ten points and one day detention," Harry protested. "I don't see any reason why you're so fussy about it. You're over-reacting."<p>

"Over-reacting?" Callista repeated his words angrily. "I had never once gotten points deducted or a detention from any Professor - including Snape - in my entire Hogwarts life! Even when we would go out on one of our crazy wild adventures, I was never punished! That was the first time for me, and it was from my head house too! Flitwick warned all of the other Professors concerning my behavior in class and all of them are now concerned. It was humiliating and it was all your fault, Harry!"

"How was it mine? You were the one who made too much noise in class, not me." Callista's jaw hardened.

"What about the time we had Herbology together?" Regine cut in, a grumpy expression on her face.

* * *

><p>"And there's this girl who stalks me everywhere I go. It's freaky, I tell you…" Harry shivered visibly. "How am I supposed to lose that kind person off my tail?"<p>

"I don't know, Harry," Regine answered curtly. Her forehead creased, reviewing the plant she and Harry were assigned by Professor Spout. They were both in the same Herbology class and always partnered together. Presently, Regine was striving to take care of the plant properly, but her 'partner' was babbling away, not assisting her in the slightest.

"Don't know? You do have a better answer than that, don't you?" Harry just stared at her, not lifting a finger to help her with their project.

"When I say I don't know, then I don't know!" Donning the dragon hide gloves, Regine started conducting the task they were given. Harry followed suit, but promptly switched back to venting all of his problems to her.

"Harry!" Regine growled. Thrusting her gloved hands deeper into the pile of dragon dung, she scooped some up and hurled it to the large pot. "Look, if I'm not focused, there will be some serious consequences to the plant Professor Sprout assigned us to. Also, she entrusted us her own plant, so I must concentrate. We have to give it our full attention, just like brewing a potion. Concentration is the key!"

"Um, Regine…" Harry looked at her cautiously. She hadn't stopped tossing the fertilizer onto the plant and her eyes were on him the whole time.

"Harry, please, not now. Just let me work." She looked over the plant and was horrified to discover it was nowhere in sight. It was completely covered with fertilizer. Regine had buried it completely.

"Ms. Barberis!" Sprout shrieked, drawing the attention of all the people in the greenhouse. The Professor frantically rushed to the girl, shoving few students along the way. "Where is it? I told you to be careful with it and to not put too much fertilizer in it or _it will die_! There is no plant in this pot...it's full of _shit_!"

Regine whimpered as Sprout bustled around, fretting over one of her precious plants.

* * *

><p>"It wasn't my fault." Harry shrugged indifferently. "You're the one who was doing two things at the same time."<p>

"So you're saying it was my fault?" The girl gnashed her teeth. "Because of that incident, Professor Sprout forbade me from entering the greenhouses! I spent most of my Hogwarts life in the greenhouse! I destroyed her precious plant! I have to practically beg her forgiveness, just so she let me in again. She lost all of her trust in my ability to take care of the plants and now, she has to watch me closely every time I'm working! I have to earn her trust all over again!"

"But still, it wasn't me who buried that plant with fertilizers. It was your own bloody hands." Regine was flooded with even more rage.

Sheila jumped into the conversation, slamming two of her hands on the table. "How about in Transfiguration? Because of you, McGonagall almost murdered me!"

* * *

><p>"I swear, one of these days I'm going to be raped by my so-called fan girls," said Harry, gazing up at the ceiling. He was bored out of his mind. "How am I supposed to avoid that?"<p>

"I don't know, Harry," Sheila whispered harshly. It was the rare occasion that she was not in a good mood. Her cheerful attitude was nowhere to be found. She bobbed her head, understanding how the task supposed to be done. McGonagall was explaining them how to transfigure their own table into flock of birds. Nevertheless, Harry was not making this lesson easy for Sheila. It was complicated enough to comprehend what McGonagall was saying, but with Harry unleashing all of his trivial complaints on her, it was even more difficult.

"Sheila, don't you care that your friend is going to get raped in the near future?" Harry averted his eyes from the ceiling and looked to her.

"Oh yes, I care. I care, alright," she sarcastically replied, mimicking the movement of McGonagall's wand. Seeing this, Harry pulled out his wand and began doing exactly what Sheila was attempting. Now at least he looked like he was paying attention, though he was still absently conversing with his friend beside him.

"Gah! Harry! What you're talking about makes no sense at all! You can protect yourself even without a wand in hand," Sheila spat. "Not to mention, never in my life have I heard of a guy getting raped at Hogwarts! That's just ridiculous, it'd have to be the end of the world! And if it did happen, then consider yourself lucky. That's every guys dream, isn't it? So shut up and let me concentrate! This is too important for me to miss!"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but this just angered his friend more. "Harry, I told you to shut up! I know what I'm talking about!" She threw her arms in the air out of exasperation, unconsciously transfiguring something behind her in the process.

"Ms. Jonnet!" Sheila flinched and shakily turned to confront her head of house. Her eyes widened as she was met with the sight in front of her. McGonagall's face was deluged red in anger. Her attire has been transfigured into some kind of bird suit, almost making her look like a real giant bird, her pointed hat contributing to the effect. McGonagall quickly switched it back to her previous attire. The class didn't dare laugh.

"Stay behind after class," said McGonagall in low, vicious tone.

Sheila's face paled as she lowered her gaze.

* * *

><p>"Now, how could that possibly be my fault?" Harry wisely reasoned. "I'm sure what McGonagall had in store for you wasn't that bad."<p>

"Not bad?" Sheila seethed. Her body was quaking in rage. "I was banned from Quidditch for two bloody months, you git! Not to mention she took away my broom! What am I going to do in my free time now? I always fly around the castle to burn off some steam. I was supposed to be her number one Gryffindor, but now I can't look at her face without feeling ashamed! Also, every time I enter her class she warns me no 'funny business.' She thinks I'm some sort of troublemaker now! How embarrassing is that?"

"But it wasn't my wand that transfigured McGonagall's clothes into some kind of... bird suit, it was yours." Sheila's fists clenched tightly.

"Potions," Daphne breathed in irritation, thumping her book shut. "How do you explain yourself during our time in Potions?"

* * *

><p>"They've been ogling me all day long. It's like they can see right through my clothes. I feel like I'm naked with their eyes on me. Heck, I'm being violated!" Harry muttered, glancing throughout the classroom to verify his observations. "How am I supposed to dodge something like that?"<p>

"I don't know, Potter." Her straight shiny blond hair was tied in a ponytail as she was working on the potion they were instructed to make. Snape was not in the classroom at the moment, having disappeared into the store room. Harry leaned his back on the table they shared.

"Come on, can't you just give me a suggestion or something?"

"No."

She was disgruntled to say the least, that all of the students had to be partnered together just for this one special assignment. Harry didn't even bother to assist her and she soon realized she would have to do it all herself. Snape made it clear that having a partner would increase efficiency when brewing this particular potion. One person could do the practical work, while the other could check the progress of the potion as it developed in the cauldron. This would help students avoid unnecessary accidents.

Harry observed her lazily. She added some ingredients to the cauldron and stirred it carefully. The color changed from orange to purple, then back to a vivid orange again. "Potter, I'm going to need some of your assistance here. Just put the ingredients that I name into the cauldron. Do you understand?" Harry shrugged in response. Daphne hesitated, but coerced her mind back to their assignment. She blew a frustrated breath, scowling deeply once Harry resumed his endless complaints.

"That's enough, Potter!" she cried out after a few moments, causing nearby students to jump. "Give me that!" She snatched the ingredient from his hand - the spine of Lionship he was holding is dangerously incompatible to their potion. "For Merlin's sake, just shut up for one minute! All you do is complain this and that, and I'm tired of it! This time, I'll give you a fair warning... I will curse you badly if you don't suck it up!"

Harry opened his mouth, eyes fixed on the ingredient in Daphne's hands. "Don't think I won't do it, Potter," she hissed angrily. Mechanically, she tossed the thing into the cauldron. Harry reacted instinctively, pulling her into his embrace and erecting a powerful shield to surround them both. The ensuing explosion was one of the most memorable things that would ever occur in the Hogwarts dungeon. The Potion Master hastily rushed into the classroom.

"Greengrass!" Snape's beady eyes were large as saucers, taking in the scene that lay before him. "I'll see to justice for what you've done today!"

Daphne's tongue was far too tied to form a response.

* * *

><p>"That definitely wasn't my fault at all," Harry stated nonchalantly. "Besides, everything turned out perfectly by the end of the day."<p>

"Perfectly?" Daphne mouthed in disbelief. Then her shock turned to outrage. "I was summoned by Dumbledore to discuss my behavior _with my parents_ in his office that day! And let me tell you, it was far from a wonderful experience. And now Snape won't allow me anywhere near most of potion's equipment. I can't do any practical potion work for the time being, I only have writing assessments! Making potions is my life and no one was able to take that away from me. But now, I can't even brew one simple potion without someone breathing down my neck!"

"As I recall, I wasn't the one who tossed that thing into the cauldron, it was you. So it's got nothing to do with me." Her eyes flared dangerously.

Harry looked at the four girls and he shuddered at their apparent rage. He sighed tiredly. "Okay, I guess all of it was my fault and I'm sorry for that. I didn't mean to get you girls in any trouble," he mumbled. They calmed a little at his sincere apology and the fact that his expression was quite morose.

"We're sorry, Harry," Regine spoke up, now feeling guilty for yelling at him. "We're not angry at you. We only wanted you to stop complaining to us about your recent fame. It's pretty annoying."

Daphne lessened her scowl. "Look Potter, I don't see any reason why you should complain about it."

"What the slimy snake said," Sheila agreed.

"Harry, the thing is-" Callista purposely interrupted before Daphne could retort, "-signing bunch of autographs isn't really troublesome. It's just how celebrity life is. It's part of their daily routine. You just have to put up with it. It's a price you have to pay."

"Callista does have a point, Harry," Sheila nodded her head enthusiastically. "Anyway, from what we've seen, there aren't really that many people asking for your autograph. You're just being dramatic." Pausing for a while, she shrugged her shoulders. "Well, more dramatic than how I usually am."

"I told you, girls. I. Am. Not!" Harry grumbled. "The only time I'm safe from those bloody crazed fans of mine is when I'm with you girls! Even Professors have asked for my autograph."

Daphne cocked an eyebrow. "Potter, that's a bit unbelievable. If you wish for our help or to catch our full attention, you don't have to go that far. Regardless of how many times we broke the rules, leave the Professors out of this."

"I'm serious!"

"Harry, really? A Professor?" Callista asked in disbelief. "I could believe that you were mobbed by your student fans but a _Professor_?"

"I think he's really stressed and mess up," Regine stared him worriedly. "Are you, Harry?"

"No, I am not," Harry growled, irritated.

"The Professors? Oh, that's a good one!" Sheila giggled, but her mirth subsided once she surveyed his expression. "Wait, you're serious?"

Harry offered her a look of annoyance. "Remember the time McGonagall held me back after class? You two were there." He nodded to Callista and Sheila.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Potter, stay behind for a moment. There is something I wish to discuss with you."<p>

Harry exchanged confused looks with his two best friends. They just shrugged, sharing his bewilderment. Glancing at him one last time, they silently gestured that they would wait for him outside. Nodding his head, Harry walked up to McGonagall's desk when the class was empty save for the two of them. "Um… did I do something wrong, Professor?"

"No, not at all, Mr. Potter."

"Oh, that's a relief." Harry felt wave of reassurance wash throughout his body.

McGonagall gave him a slight smile. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding, Mr. Potter. I was merely wondering if you can provide me with some of your assistance."

"Of course, Professor. I'll do what I can in my power."

"Splendid." The smile on her face extended further. She pushed a parchment in front of Harry and handed him a quill. Harry accepted the quill but looked at her incredulously. By now, he had guessed what she wanted him to do. McGonagall cleared her throat professionally, though a tint of red coated her cheeks. "Now, Mr. Potter. This is not for me. One of the first years in Gryffindor had brought this matter to my attention, requesting your autograph. She was simply too shy and couldn't gather enough courage to do it herself. As the head of Gryffindor, it is my responsibility to see her wants fulfilled. This is also an effective way to make her feel more comfortable in Hogwarts."

Harry slowly nodded his head, agreeing her words. It did make sense. He signed the parchment in his fancy calligraphy and set the quill gently on the Professor's desk. "May I ask her name, Professor?"

"Yes, you may," McGonagall said, admiring Harry's autograph with a large smile. "Her very close friends call her Minnie."

Both Harry's eyebrows vanished into his hair line.

* * *

><p>"Didn't McGonagall said it was for the first year?" Sheila pointed out.<p>

"Yes, you told us after you left the classroom," Callista assented.

"Oh, come on!" said Harry exasperatedly. "Is there really a first year named Minnie? I never remember hearing that name during the Sorting Ceremony."

"Well, Minnie is a short form for…Minerva," Regine reluctantly voiced out what was on her mind.

"See?"

"Potter, that's enough already. It's completely understandable. Everyone knows McGonagall is a big fan of Quidditch."

"Yeah, Daphne's right. McGonagall is a Quidditch fanatic. That's why last year she was more than willing to let your little brother join the Gryffindor Quidditch team. She wanted the Quidditch Cup so badly. It's really no surprise that she wants your autograph." Sheila passed her work to Callista, silently asking her friend to check it. The other three girls nodded their heads in agreement, ready to go back to what they had been doing moments ago.

Harry scowled, unwilling to lose the argument. "Okay, what about Pomfrey?"

The girls heaved a tired sigh. They should've known he wouldn't give up so easily.

Placing Sheila's parchment on the table, Callista massaged her temples. "Harry, please don't tell me you're going to drag Madam Pomfrey into this too?"

"Why not? That was a perfect example!"

* * *

><p>"How's your hand, Mr. Potter?" Madam Pomfrey emerged from behind the curtain.<p>

Harry stretched his right hand. "Its fine now, Madam Pomfrey. Thanks to you, of course."

The girls were waiting for him outside after getting kicked out by the bustling healer. They dragged him to the infirmary when they saw his hand was shaking non-stop. After signing countless autographs and on top of finishing all his homework, he had acquired a painful cramp in his hand. In spite of how knowledgeable he was in terms of spells, he didn't know too many healing ones. He was just too damn polite and he didn't like pushing away his demanding fans. He blamed Callista for that, the girl rubbed her politeness off on him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey."

"Well, shall we test that?" A parchment suddenly appeared in her hands. She shoved a quill into Harry's grasp. "Why don't you sign it in your usual signature just to be sure?"

"Umm, is this necessary, Madam?" Harry tittered nervously.

"Mr. Potter, I'm a professional healer and one of the top in the British Wizarding world. Of course, this is necessary. Just have faith in me and stop questioning my ability as the school matron. Now, hurry up, your friends are waiting for you outside. Let's not keep them any longer." Harry was left with no choice, and with a sigh, he touched ink to paper.

* * *

><p>"She was confirming your hand, Harry. That cannot be considered as a fan asking for an autograph," protested Callista. "But if you think about it, it does kind of seem like she was aiming for that."<p>

"Hmm…" Daphne hummed. "I confess that was very Slytherin of her."

"What did I tell you?" Harry declared indignantly. "There's no longer peace for me at Hogwarts."

"Umm…" All five teenagers turned to the newcomer who stood by their table, smiling nervously. Another figure peered out from behind the girl. "C-c-can m-me and my friend have your autograph, Harry?"

Right away, Harry smiled dazzlingly. "Of course, of course! Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott, right?" He pried their parchment from their hands and signed it accordingly. The two blushed copiously.

"Y-y-you remember us?" Hannah Abbott stammered.

"How could I forget such cute girls especially the ones I saved in their moment of distress? Now, that's unlike like me at all." Their blushes heightened dramatically and they found their shoes to be more fascinating than ever. Several fake coughs sounded in the background, undeniably from the girls. Harry stiffened and hastily gave the girls' parchment back. "W-w-well, can you two leave us now? We're busy with our homework."

The two girls just smiled timidly at him with red all over their faces and turned to leave. Harry's friends watched the second years as the two took their previous seats. Hannah and Susan's gaze, however, lingered on Harry. Their eyes clouded with mist, not ashamed to be ogling him from afar. Harry couldn't help but notice that this blatant staring was mimicked by many other girls in the library.

"Can you give us some rational explanation as to why you're taking the pleasure of signing autographs for them, Harry? I was under the impression that you didn't like the attention," said Callista in a flat tone. The other three girls looked at him with displeasure, expecting an answer.

"N-n-now w-w-ho am I to resist little girls? It's not like I'm flirting with them, they remind me a lot of my baby sister, Rosaline!" Harry reasoned. There was a hint of panic in his tone. "Come on, they're just little girls!"

"As I recall, Potter, you never bother about age when it comes to flirting." Daphne narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"Like Madam Rosmerta," Regine groused, squinting her eyes slightly. "Fine. We'll let it slide for now."

Harry unconsciously drew a breath of relief. "Can we get back to the previous topic?"

"Oh, that reminds me!" Sheila snapped her fingers, grinning. "I thought that having _three_ celebrities in school would've divided the people's attention, but all they want is you, Harry. It's like there's only one instead of three. Lockhart and your brother aren't nearly as famous as you are."

"Is that what you were reminded of, Jonnet?" Daphne muttered. "And here I thought you would say something useful. What a shame… a shame, indeed…"

"Well, no, that wasn't all of it." Sheila shot a quick glare at Daphne. A grin then spread over her lips. "I just remembered my first lesson with Ravenclaw in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was the most enjoyable lesson I've ever experienced, and it was all thanks to Harry."

* * *

><p>"Ah yes," Lockhart bobbed his head, displaying his brilliant, shiny teeth. "One of my most wretched experiences was facing that awful werewolf, but I'm afraid I dealt with him without a wand. I simply wrestled him to the ground and then my Wolfsbane did the rest."<p>

"More like he curled to a ball, sucked his thumb, and cried out to his mommy for help," Harry muttered, his head propped on one hand. Sheila snickered beside him. Harry's half lidded eyes stared insipidly at Lockhart before turning to Callista, who was seated at the front. "Remind me again why Callista insisted on taking a seat in the very front row with Clearwater instead of the seat next to us?"

"Beats me. She said she wanted to fully take in what Lockhart has to say. She said he's more experienced in dealing with a real threat." Sheila played with her quill instead of paying attention. She tossed it to the table and let out a low groan. "I'm bored."

"You're not the only one." Harry looked over Lockhart's books on his desk. "_Holidays with Hags, Year with a Yeti, Wandering with Werewolves…_What is this crap? These aren't school books. They're just detailing his adventures."

"You're right, Harry." Sheila inspected each book title.

"I have an idea on how to make this class more fun." Harry bent over her ear and whispered something.

A grin toyed her lips and she giggled evilly. "Oh, that's brilliant, Harry…" Putting on an innocent expression, she waved her right hand giddily. "Oh, Professor!" All the people in the class turned to her.

Lockhart smiled dashingly in her direction. His shiny teeth almost blinded everyone. "Yes, Ms…?"

"Jonnet, sir!" Sheila perkily answered.

"Ah yes, yes! Ms. Jonnet! Do you have a question?"

"No!" Still enthusiastic, Callista cast her a suspicious look. "I'm just saying that wrestling a werewolf is remarkable and very brave of you! Not many people could do that."

Lockhart laughed off at her compliments. "Yes, yes, it was an intense experience, but I brought it down without breaking a sweat!" A few of the girls sighed dreamily at his words.

"I was just wondering if you would show us your moves. I mean, how you defeat the werewolf with your bare hands?" She then grinned widely with eyes gleaming. "Let one of us pretend to be the werewolf and you can re-enact how you took it down! We want to see you in action!" She paused for a moment before adding an afterthought. "Sir!"

Lockhart beamed at the thought of gaining more fans. "Very well then, if you insist, Ms. Jonnet. I'm sure this will be an excellent lesson to you all. Now, any volunteers?" He purposely missed the many hands that rose up and focused on Harry.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, so good of you to volunteer!" He glided his way to his place and hauled Harry to the front. Harry hid his satisfaction. The males in the room wore expressions of glee. They knew how good Harry was in close combat and they hoped he'd do more than a little damage.

Callista stood up abruptly in alarm. "A-Ah Professor! I don't think that's a good ide-"

"Not to worry, I will go easy on Mr. Potter. You'll have your friend completely intact after this, everyone." Lockhart brushed away Callista's weak dissent. "Now, Mr. Potter. What I want you to do is to come at me and hit me with your best shot. Do not hold your strength back, alright? Yes? Okay! Now, now, not to worry, Mr. Potter. I won't inflict a lot of pain."

"Certainly, Professor!" His tone was full of innocence, folding his school uniform's long sleeves back to his elbows.

Lockhart moved to the front again, smiling widely. "Class, remember this day! The day when I-" His words were promptly cut off when Harry, wasting no time, punched him in the stomach. "Urk!" With a look of concentration, Harry grasped the collar of Lockhart's shirt and his right wrist. Summoning all of his strength, he lifted Lockhart a little and with the roar of a lion, he threw the man with all his might towards the teacher's large desk. The sound of crash was loud enough for everyone to hear and they cringed at the impact.

Inhaling a rather huge breath, Harry regained his composure. He clasped his hands together and bowed respectfully at Lockhart in a monk-like style. Sheila was the first one to shatter the ice as she stood up, clapping her hands excitedly and whooping for Harry. Soon, it was followed by whistles and thunderous claps from everyone. Or _nearly_ everyone - Roger Davies was glaring daggers at him and Callista looked horrified. Noticing this, Harry turned to them and smiled as he half-bowed in appreciation. Before he knew it, he was encircled by the students and they showered him with compliments. Lockhart's fans completely abandoned their unconscious idol as their minds centered more on Harry.

* * *

><p>"The fool thought it was the perfect opportunity to steal Potter's fame." Daphne was clearly chuckling. "He needs to reconsider his plan. It completely backfired on him, Potter was the one who ended up stealing his fans from him. Potter is even more famous among the male population now." She grinned a little in Harry's direction. "That was very sneaky of you, Potter. I applaud you for that."<p>

"The thing that made me laugh so hard was the Professors awarding Harry points." Sheila laughed with tears of mirth in her eyes. "And get this, even Snape awarded Harry points...for his _demonstration,_ as he put it. I thought for sure he was going to assign Harry detention!"

"I was bored and he was babbling about things that didn't concern me or my future at all. So, I decided to teach the class something related to defense, but for entertainment." He shrugged, smirking. "Lockhart in the infirmary for three days straight was just a bonus for me."

"Still, Harry..." Callista was stern. "You shouldn't do that to a Professor. Who knows, it might turn out not so good for you and you'll get in trouble for it."

Harry quirked an eyebrow, deadpanning, "Says the girl who has crush on the pathetic man?" Now, he was not amused.

Callista's face tinged with red. "W-w-well I-I…" She fidgeted in her seat, nibbling her bottom lip.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with that. With all the things Professor Lockhart has done, it's no surprise at all." Regine shrunk when three pair of eyes hovered on her. She timidly pushed her pointed slender fingers together. "Well, that's what he wrote in his books anyway…"

"You fancy him too, don't you?" Harry accused, his face blank. Regine's cheeks pinked.

"Hey, leave Regine alone. I agree with her!" Callista flushed in embarrassment once their attention transferred to her. She licked her dried lips and was now beginning to regret her outburst. "I-I mean none of us could be brave enough to execute anything like he does."

Regine nodded her head shakily.

"What about the time we were swarmed by a large colony of Acromantulas?" Harry muttered flatly.

"Or the time the centaurs fired their arrows repeatedly from afar because they thought we brought an evil presence to their forest," Sheila carried on.

"There's also the time we were chased down by two werewolves," Daphne continued. "I'm still confused though, as to why they appeared in the Forbidden Forest. They came out of nowhere too..."

"Okay, okay! You three have a point!" Callista snapped, annoyed at how they'd beaten her in her own game.

"But that still doesn't explain the things he's done!" Regine burst.

"He's a fraud," Harry stated nonchalantly. "That's a good explanation."

"What?" Regine exclaimed.

"Prove it!" Callista demanded.

"All he cares about is his fame. Instead of teaching us properly, he weaves his heroic tales, boasting about his experiences. He never performed his responsibilities as a Professor correctly. And rather than preparing for his next class, he spends his spare time either looking in the mirror to make sure he's still 'dashing,' or answering his fan mail. " Harry was twirling his wand for no apparent reason.

"Plus, over the span of two weeks, he never once taught us any proper spells. All he did was delaying the lessons we need for our O.W.L.S." Sheila chewed the tip of her quill. "It's better for us studying by ourselves."

"Let's not forget his inability to act as a Professor or to live up to what his books claim. When fans asks him to demonstrate a spell from one of his books, he never fails to create an excuse." Daphne was examining her polished nails.

"W-w-w-well then, serves him right!" Callista fumed, as she slammed one of Lockhart's books onto the table. "I didn't say I fancy him, I just admired his work - I thought all of it was real!"

"You said it, sister!" Regine followed Callista's doings. "Why didn't you crush all of his bones when you had the chance, Harry?"

"Yeah!" Callista perked in agreement.

The eyes of the other three widened at the sudden change of heart. Subsequent to it, the three of them shrugged nonchalantly. After spending so much time together for four years, they deduced that it was the simple fact that all of them easily influenced one other. If one of them put forward a convincing case, the others were always willing to lean towards their side.

"Well, let's forget about Lockhart for the time being and return back to _my _predicament. We're getting off topic… again..."

"Sorry Harry, we keep forgetting about that." Sheila grinned sheepishly.

"I say just leave him be, Jonnet," Daphne smirked. "It is not our concern. It's his."

"B-but I thought we agreed!"

"We didn't say anything about that, Harry." Regine smiled teasingly at him.

"I didn't agree to anything either," Callista teased. "You did give us plenty of trouble throughout the last two weeks."

"Oh fine then! I'll just leave you all to yourself! Sorry for the inconvenience," Harry huffed, standing up.

Feeling guilty, Regine stood up and was about to apologize, but Sheila and Callista quickly retracted her back down. They each clamped a hand over her mouth and whispered in her ear. That calmed her down and she too didn't bother with Harry. He waited a little, but there was no response from the girls.

"Well then, Potter. What are you waiting for? If you don't mind, we'd like you to leave us in peace," Daphne smirked, her hands shooing him. "Go on then…"

"I will!" He walked away.

Exchanging amused looks, they all counted on their fingers to three. As soon as the third digit reached, Harry popped out of nowhere.

"C'mon girls! Help me out here!" Harry pleaded. They actually giggled at his behavior. No matter how annoyingly childish he could be, they couldn't deny how cute he was, and they were flattered that they were the only ones who got to see this side of him.

They looked at each other and Callista pretended to be pondering deeply, "Hmm, I don't know, girls… I was thinking of letting him suffer more. He will learn his lessons through hardship."

"I kind of agree…" Regine's lips threatened to break into a grin.

"If you two are going to be that way, then I guess I am too." Sheila shrugged, grinning.

"Well, what do you know, we're all in the same boat…" Daphne resisted the urge to grin. "Tough luck for you, Potter."

"Okay, okay! I promise I won't be lazy and I will try to pay more attention in class and be a good partner to you girls when the time comes, just help me with my fans! I won't give any of you any more trouble without a reason!"

"Is that so?" Daphne drawled, her eyes shining in hilarity.

"Yes, yes! I'm desperate here!"

"Very well... The only thing we can do is spread words that you don't like your privacy being invaded. This will tone down your fans. This method is surprisingly effective. The power of the rumor is simply incredible, and with the help of your increasing fame, it will work out just fine. They'll leave you alone." Callista conceded, still smiling in amusement. "I'll start with Ravenclaw."

"Me in Gryffindor!" Sheila chimed in.

"I'll spread the word through Cedric." Regine smiled, already continuing her abandoned work. "He'll say something to the rest of the 'Puffs."

"And I in Slytherin. Zabini is good for gossiping. Is that satisfactory, Potter?"

"Yes, thank you." Harry breathed in relief. "You girls promise, right?" They nodded their head. "And no take-backs, because that's what we all do. If we promise to someone, we have to keep our word."

"Yes, Potter," Daphne murmured, flipping her book over to read once more.

A long comfortable silence stretched. Harry pretended to read a book and eyed all of the girls. He permitted a smirk on his lips for a short while before he became serious again.

"So…" Harry cleared his throat. "There's this girl that keeps asking my autograph again and again! I mean, what's up with that? Doesn't she know I have a life to deal with? I swear, it was just an excuse for her to run her eyes all over my body. Do you know Blaise, Zabini's sister? Yeah, that's the one!" The girls bristled in their respective seats at this. "How am I supposed to avoid this? She's too sweet and innocent for me to yell at."

And that was it. "Harry Potter!" Their shouts echoed through library.

"Enough! Enough! All this shouting, yelling, and slamming books! Out, all of you! OUT!"

"Did you mean me, Madam Pince?" Harry faked a hurtful look.

"No, not you, Mr. Potter," she replied hastily, her voice softening. "It's these girls. Now, pack your things and I want you four out!"

With that, she vanished. Harry moved his attention from Madam Pince's back to the girls. He ducked his head behind the book he held, hiding from four withering glares. "I still keep my promises, you know, and I didn't say anything about me unloading my problems onto you girls, or causing you trouble when I have my reasons. And I did have my reasons. You all had been teasing me mercilessly, so I returned the favor - and by the way, it wasn't my fault. It was you girls who did all the shouting...not me." They gritted their teeth crossly, though packed their things and got ready to march out of the library.

"Oh, don't forget about that promise. Remember, you four never break any of your promises, so don't start now," Harry whispered, grinning victoriously as they furiously stomped the poor floor on their way out. However, his victory was short-lived. Before Harry knew it, the seats at his table were instantly occupied by his fans. Smiling nervously at the new girls, he stood up and dashed away from the library, intent on pursuing his best friends.

When it clicked to him that they were angry at him and wouldn't hesitate to turn him to dust, he groaned. Why did he have to do that to them? Why couldn't life be easy? Now he had no shelter from his fans! Glancing behind him, he groaned for a second time, quickening his pace. Even though the girls weren't with him at the moment, they were still making him pay for what he had done. Mental note to self, never again mess with the girls or risk facing the dreadful consequences.

* * *

><p><strong>19 September 1992.<strong>

"Are you positive they're okay with this?" Harry inquired, glancing at his friend out of the corner of his eye. "I'd hate to patch things up if it doesn't work out like the last time. You do remember how we all stopped talking to each other for nearly two weeks, right?"

Callista closed her eyes briefly to serene her emotions. "Yes, this time it will be fine, Harry. I already discussed it with the girls and they approved though I can't say Daphne agreed too willingly."

"If you say so." Harry shrugged uncaringly but his head snapped to her as he added, "Wait, why I wasn't part of this discussion?"

Callista reached out for Harry's free hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "You don't need to worry, Harry. You know we won't leave you behind. You were quite busy during the summer and for that reason, we didn't wish to bother you."

Harry scowled a little, facing away from her gorgeous eyes. "A-Alright… But next time, don't leave me out of something that concerns you girls, and don't make any pathetic excuses for you to exclude me."

Callista smiled largely at her friend's compassion. She interlocked her fingers with his and her heart warmed at his touch. "Very well, next time, we'll include you in everything."

"Are you sure this is what you want? Daphne does have a point," Harry splattered the silence after a few minutes, not minding her hand holding his. "I just realized this summer that Quidditch is a brutal sport. It's not fun if you're the victim to a bludger or if you fall off a broom-" Harry winced noticeably, recollecting his past experiences. "I was naive in my first year. I just went along with everyone else when I entered the Ravenclaw team and took my position as one of the Chasers."

"I will be fine. Ever since Mr. Greengrass installed a floo system in my house, I've been going back and forth to Sheila's mansion to train," she affirmed confidently.

"That confident, huh?" She hummed melodically in response, and her smile never faltered.

"Harry?" Callista called out for her friend as if the idea had just struck her mind. "How come you still get to participate in Hogwarts' Quidditch tournament? And above all that, Professor Flitwick appointed you as captain. I presumed professional players aren't allowed to compete against fellow students. Wouldn't it simply be out of the question?"

"Oh, that?" Harry smirked slightly. "Now that you mention it, I was thinking along the same lines when Flitwick summoned me to his office."

* * *

><p><strong>17 September 1992.<strong>

"Ah, Harry!" Flitwick squeaked, squirming enthusiastically in the seat he sat on. "Come in! Come in!"

"It's good to see you again, Professor." Harry smiled slightly at his little head of house.

"You too, my dear boy! You too!" the Professor replied eagerly. "Come, come, have a seat. There's something I want to discuss with you."

Harry nodded his head politely, sitting down in one of the two chairs in front of Flitwick. "Is there something you want from me, Professor?"

"You were very busy last summer, weren't you, Harry?"

"Why yes, Professor. I was _very _busy." Harry stated with a hint of amused in his tone. He intentionally stressed the word 'very'. After the whole Quidditch tournament, he had resumed his own private training with the old man.

Flitwick rapidly jiggled his head up and down with excitement. "Imagine my surprise when the news of your initiation to Puddlemere United reached my ears! It was beyond anyone's wildest dreams!"

Harry felt an embarrassment surge through him. "Yeah, well, I learned many things during my time in Puddlemere. One, is that the standard of the professionals and standards here are completely different. Even I have to work very hard to earn the position I am in now."

"True, true but it is still remarkable and I wish to say congratulations! It's not often that a Ravenclaw excels in sports. We are seen as only succeeding in matters that concern our intellectual self. You demonstrated to everyone that even the smart ones can accomplish something different."

"That's true..." And it was. Among the four houses, Ravenclaw was deemed to be weak when it came to any sort of physical activity, not only by the people in Hogwarts, but by the rest of the British Wizarding world. Harry had proven that achievement is not based on the house you're in, it's who you are as a person that matters, and no amount of judgment based on blood status or background could change that. Though he doubted anyone cared about such truths.

Knocked back from his daydream, Harry addressed his Professor. "Ah...Professor, why did you call me here?"

Flitwick pulled out a badge from one of the drawers in his desk and placed it on the wooden surface.

"Is this what I think it is, Professor?"

"Yes, Harry! It is!"

"But Professor, professionals aren't allowed to play. It wouldn't be fair to the students."

"I don't ever recall rules saying that they cannot. Actually, this subject was never touched upon at all in the rulebook, so the answer you're looking for is no, Harry."

"But are you sure, Professor? I mean, it's not fair to the other houses," Harry said tentatively. "I've been trained this summer by none other than Phillbert Deverill, one of the best Quidditch coaches in all of Britain."

"I have to say, Harry, I am lucky you're in my house. From what I've observed these past few years, you've acquired all the Hogwarts house traits. You have what it means to be a Slytherin, in terms of earning points and escaping punishments assigned to you. I've watched you act so much like a Gryffindor when you play Quidditch, just charging straight ahead with outstanding bravery. You can be a true Hufflepuff, particularly in how you treat your fellow classmates with fairness and present such loyalties to your friends. Yet here you are now, one of the Ravenclaws, and for that I'm truly thankful." Flitwick permitted a grateful smile to coil his lips. "In truth, at one of the staff meetings, I brought up this matter. As usual, Professor Snape disapproved of you being a member of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and especially disliked the idea of you being captain, but his objection means nothing considering the rest of the staff voiced their opinions and wished for you to play."

"And Professor McGonagall and Sprout? They're okay with this? I don't want them to have any reason to hate me, Professor."

Flitwick waved his hand dismissively, unconcerned. "They look forward to your first match, and to some healthy competition in terms of the Quidditch Cup. In fact, all of us are!" Harry had promised the coach that he would train his body in preparation for next year's tournament, and seemed to be a perfect solution...so what the heck!

With an indifference shrug, Harry snatched the badge. "If that is all, then I require some sleep, Professor."

"Yes, you should do that, but before you leave, there is one more thing."

Harry rose up, straightening himself. "Oh, what's that, Professor?"

"May I have your autograph, Harry?"

* * *

><p>"He did?" Callista asked, shocked.<p>

"Yeah, he did," Harry mumbled with a sour expression. Perceiving the sound of giggles next to him, Harry twirled his head to the source of the noise and exclaimed, "Don't laugh, damn it! It's infuriating enough that everyone insists on asking for my autograph. What's so great about it anyway? It's just a damn parchment with my damn signature on it! It's nothing special! Even Lockhart is jealous of me now - his fanbase is virtually nonexistent, all because I accidentally 'stole' everyone away from him! He may not show it, but he's furious with the sudden swell in the number of my fans. Gah, it's so frustrating!"

This only served Callista to laugh out more, though she never slackened her grip on the broom or Harry's free hand. Harry scowled at her reaction. He expected some wise advice, not for her to be laughing at his demise. He shifted his sight to the front and a devilish smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. He came to a halt, and Callista did the same. Still laughing a little, she spun her head to him with mild confusion in her eyes. Harry faintly motioned his head, indicating for her to look up.

The laugh died in her throat as she frowned deeply. The source of her distaste was none other than Percy Weasley, who had what appeared to be a charming smile playing on his lips. Well, it was _Percy's_ idea of charming. Callista's body went rigid as the Weasley drew near. Whistling a familiar tune, Harry made to walk up ahead, but Callista held him tightly, not wanting him to leave her. He swallowed a little at her menacing glare. Sighing, he remained by her side.

"Hello Callista, fine weather, isn't it?" Percy smiled to her, ignoring Harry's existence.

"U-um y-yeah…" Callista awkwardly returned his smile, restraining an immense urge to grimace.

Harry had to turn away from them, chocking back sniggers.

"I see you're up…for Quidditch tryouts…" Percy frowned a little.

At this, her eyes shone brilliantly. "Ah yes! And by now, we're both probably late. It's not good to keep the others waiting, particularly for their own captain, right Harry?"

"Hmm…" Harry pretended to be clueless. "Oh, don't mind me, Callista. We still have plenty of time, so no worries at all. Even if we are late, I'm sure they won't mind. They're used to my less-than-perfect punctuality. So just take your time with Weasel." Harry coughed. "Oh, I mean Weasley. Honestly, I don't know why I keep saying that."

Callista squinted her eyes. "But people already gathered at the field...it looks like everyone's there except for the two of us. It's best we get over there, yes?" Callista spoke through her clenched teeth. In addition, she crushed his hand tightly to make her message quite clear.

"Ouch! Damn it, woman! You'll break my bones!" But Callista didn't let go.

"Why are you two holding hands?" Percy blurted. His tone was more accusing than questioning and his eyes burned with jealousy.

Seizing the chance, Harry hung their hands up in the air and shoved them in Percy's face. "What? Never seen a guy holding a girl's hand before? How innocent of you, _Percy_. Want me to explain what happens if two opposite genders are attracted to each other?"

"It's not that Potter," he spat, his face deluged with red. He was more than furious. "Why are you two so bloody intimate?"

"It's none of your concern, _Percy,_" Harry sniffed haughtily, mimicking Percy's pose back on the train. He smirked as the guy seemed close to exploding. Skillfully, he adopted a look of innocence. "Goodness me, is it that late already? Well, if you don't mind, we'd best be going now. C'mon, Callista."

Hauling her along with him, they strode in the direction of the field, abandoning a furious looking Weasel- err...Weasley.

"He doesn't know when to give up, does he?"

Callista exhaled a frustrated breath. "Regrettably, no… He continued approaching me at every chance he can get in these last two weeks. The only place I'm completely safe from him is with you, Daphne, or in the common room. If I have to be honest, I prefer Daphne's method of dealing him."

"So do I." Harry didn't resist grinning freely at that. "It's sad he didn't get to stay longer in the infirmary. It would have done us a huge favor. What a bothersome, that guy. Why is he so persistent with you anyway?"

Callista sighed exhaustedly. "Sheila has some information on that and she acquired it from her Gryffindor friends. She claimed Weasley fancy dating me, given that I'm the only one who's _worthy_ to be his girlfriend. She said it's because I'm intelligent, one of the top three of our year, very pretty, not Slytherin or a daughter from arrogant pureblood family and yes, most importantly I'm a prefect. To his eyes, all those characteristics were qualified enough. Unfortunately for him and luckily for me, I dislike him a lot. Oh, Sheila also mentioned that sending me letters during the summer was for him to build a steady friendship with me. In accordance to it, that friendship could blossom into romance..." She paused for a few seconds before adding the afterthought, "That's what he hopes for anyway."

"No wonder, he kept chasing after you." Harry snickered. "Why can't you just be blunt on him?"

"If it weren't for my parents nurturing me to be polite, I would have say no to him."

"With a dozen of hexes on his way?"

"Oh," Callista smiled impishly. "And that too..."

Silence reigned over the two of them.

As they walked, Harry surreptitiously cast his eyes on their joined hands, his smile wavering. Now that he pondered what Percy said, the good-for-nothing guy did have a point. Why was he so intimate with Callista? It wasn't like they had anything going on between them, right? Sure, he shared much affection among his best friends, but he had never before questioned why he did so. All he knew was that it just felt so natural to him. In fact, throughout all the years he had known the girls, he now recalled how they all took every opportunity to hold his hand, hug him, and all other manner of non-friendly physical contact, including Daphne. Whenever he and she were both alone, she always put her head on his shoulder.

He looked behind him, not stopping his walk, and noticed Callista was in deep thought. Staring at her face, Harry felt blood creeping up his neck and swiftly moved his eyes back to what lay before him. It wasn't that Callista was an unattractive person - hell, she was the most beautiful girl in Ravenclaw. Guys constantly chased her, but she always rejected them. Reflecting on it a second time, _all_ of his best friends were very pretty, Daphne in particular. He supposed he had known that from the very beginning, but it appeared his teenage side now began to truly take note of how stunning they really were.

Tilting his head, his eyes wandered back to Callista, and he noticed how the Quidditch uniform molded to her body. He knew they all had beautiful, voluptuous bodies. He even went so far as to imagine all four them without clothes. Blushing more hotly, he shook his head rapidly. Mentally, he slapped himself. What was he thinking? They were his best friends! He shouldn't think of them like that, he didn't want to ruin their friendship. Furthermore, since when did girls make him blush this madly? He blamed his hormones. Quickly removing his hand from Callista's grasp, he stuffed it in his right pocket and refused to look at her anymore.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Her voice was full of inquisitiveness. She leaned in from his right, slowly closing the distance between them.

"N-nothing!" Harry scurried away, his legs moving faster, leaving a perplexed Callista behind.

* * *

><p>Harry's right eyebrow twitched at the large group in front of him. Half or maybe more, of the Ravenclaw house seemed to have turned up, all anxious for the trial. Looking on the road to the stands, he bit his lip to stifle a groan. The crowd was, more or less, identical to the mass of people that showed up for official Quidditch games at Hogwarts. He had a hard time locating his three best friends with all the people filling the seats. Harry did not mask his emotions as he blew his breath, frustrated, watching most of the people on the pitch looking at him in awe and admiration. His fame was once again starting to tick him off. Tryouts would take all day.<p>

"Alright, listen up, you lot!" Harry barked and all the participants straightened at his voice. The whispers and giggles died down. Well, there was the other thing he learned from his coach, the necessary ferocity and intimidation. Harry allowed a tiny, cocky smirk to sweep his lips for a moment.

"As you all know, it's quite a surprise the Professors permitted me to enter the team and become a captain. Not to mention with the protests from the other houses, but all that is no longer significant. What's important right now is this tryout and let me remind you all, I don't take favorites. I'll do the trial fair and square. Bear this in mind! If you happen to be completely useless, with no talent on a broom whatsoever, I'll kick you off of the field without a second thought. I don't care if you are my enemy, ones I'm close with, or ones I owe a debt to... I'll treat you all equally. Don't get any ideas that I'll just hand a few of you special privileges, including to the ones who were members of the team in the last few years. Do you understand?" He pointedly gazed at Callista and the girl nodded her head in understanding.

A seventh year snorted with laughter. Harry spotted the person effortlessly. Summoning his wand to his right hand, he flicked it in the boy's direction, hurling a bludgeon spell. It hit the guy's face with powerful force, and he collapsed to the ground with a bloody nose. "I will not tolerate anyone who doesn't have any discipline. Let me assure you, rudeness will be punished severely and I will handle it personally. A warning to you all, I do easily get annoyed…" There were gulping sounds from among the group. Some had disbelief written on their features, their Quidditch idol was completely different from what they thought he would be.

"There are Beaters, Chasers, Seekers and Keepers. Choose which type of position you wish to try for, then split up accordingly into these four groups. Hurry up, I don't have all day!" They all scrambled at Harry's command. Some were clumsy enough to bump to each other and fell to the ground.

"Alright, first thing first - we'll go through basic training, which centers on testing your endurance. All of you will participate and then I'll judge your flying skill individually. If you are dreadful on a broom, this is my encouragement for you, so hear me out." A few squirmed in anticipation as Harry took deep breath. "You don't stand a chance here so it's best you don't waste my time and get your sorry arse, out of my sight." The crowds sweat-dropped at Harry's so-called word of_ encouragement_. "After that, we'll continue on with the trial, starting with the Chasers and finishing off with the Beaters."

"Aiden!" A brunette sixth year girl hoisted her neck up at the sound of her last name. "I want to have a word with you." She nodded her head shakily, a tint of red on both of her cheeks. "Why don't you lot fly around the field to ease your nervousness and try to work on any of your special moves. Trust me, it will help you a little bit in terms of persuading me to put you on the team. Ten minutes is all you have. Oh and one more thing." They all stopped mounting their brooms. "I don't do well with tantrums and people who complain about my decisions. So watch carefully, this is how I deal with those people." Without looking, he pointed his wand at the ground next to him. A flash of light struck the grass, creating a small explosion and a small dent in the field. He swished his wand and the ground reverted back to normal. "Did you all get that?"

They nodded their heads shakily, bodies quivering violently. Those in upper years who had previously looked intimidating lost their composure entirely, and some of the lower years were about to faint. Callista was the only one unperturbed by the demonstration.

"Well then, go and fly up!" Harry snarled with a hint of annoyance in his tone. Callista stayed back for a while, glowering him and Shannon. Harry dispatched a look of annoyance in her direction and pointed his thumb up at the sky. Glaring one last time, she clambered onto her broom and joined her housemates. He shook his head, marveling at how little he understood about girls.

He smiled dashingly at Shannon, which the girl took with a pretty blush on her face. "I heard you got nine O.W.L.s, and three were Outstanding. Congratulations!"

"Um…thanks…" she mumbled, and her blush didn't reduce one bit.

"Anyway…" Harry began, eyes attached on Callista's form. He noted her flying skill had improved. "I have something to offer you, Aiden and I sincerely hope you take it."

Curiosity rushed through her body. "What's that?"

He returned to gaze at her, his smile wavering a bit. "Well, here's the thing. Since you're not a prefect and I suspect you won't be that busy this semester, I was wondering if you'd like to become my assistant."

"W-what do you mean?" The girl blushed even more.

"Nothing like that," Harry reassured her quickly. "It's just that this semester I will be very busy with my prefect duties, O.W.L.s, and other things. It will take far too much of my time for me to even consider Quidditch. That would be unfair to the rest of the team. I'm not saying I'll hand my captaincy over to you completely, but you'd be the team's second in command. Help me out with the team, organize their training, think of what kind of drills we should conduct and all of that stuff. You know how lazy I am when it comes to more work since I enjoy most of my free time relaxing. I know there is usually no such position at Hogwarts, but I will be the first to create it, and I know I can convince Flitwick into letting me."

Shannon nodded her head thoughtfully. "Now that you told me, you are facing O. next year and you're right, your time will be limited. But why me?"

Smirking suggestively, Harry stepped closer to her and instinctively she took few steps back, flushing. "Why Aiden, just think of all the time both of us will get to spend together. There won't be anyone bothering us…if we discussed our business in secluded places," he whispered seductively.

She sucked her breath, her heart hammering furiously at his words. Her face was as red as a tomato. She very much wanted to say something, but her words turned to stutters. Harry grinned at this. Wishing to push more, he opened his mouth, but stiffened when a wand dug painfully into his back. He swallowed audibly and unsteadily spun his body, coming face to face with Daphne. She wore a stoic expression and her eyes were cold as ice as she pointed her wand towards him.

"Um…hey, Daphne, w-what are you doing here? Where are Regine and Sheila?"

"I just arrived - they're not yet here," she stated flatly, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "What are you doing, Potter?"

"H-Hey! Don't get any ideas, I was offering Aiden an important position on the team! Honest, Daph! You know how busy I am this term, so I asked Aiden to be my assistant. That way, she can take care of the team in my absence!" All the while, his eyes were glued to her wand. "Would you please put that bloody thing away?"

"Is this true?" With her icy blue eyes and her furious porcelain features, Shannon found Daphne to be downright terrifying. Even Harry was scared of her and he was a pretty fearless person. Shannon nodded her rapidly, frightened of angering the fifth year girl more. Daphne doubted the validity of the answer, but obediently put her wand away. "If I find you flirting, we four will deal with you later, Potter. I'll keep an eye on you...two eyes, more like it."

Flipping her glorious straight hair, she walked gracefully to the stands, acknowledging the arrival of her two best friends. They glared Harry from afar.

Her departure elicited breaths of relief from the two of them. "Is she always that scary?" Shannon asked quietly. To her surprise, Harry chuckled a little.

"Not often, just when she's displeased with something. She is scary, isn't she? It makes you think twice about crossing her lines. With all the things she has done to the boys, it's not a surprise."

Shannon nodded her in agreement and cringed when she thought about how guys who wanted to date Daphne ended up in the infirmary. Still, everyday there would be at least one or two people who dared to ask her out. That alone spoke volume of how incredibly beautiful and gorgeous Daphne is. It's not that difficult for the others to be envy of her. Many girls were quite self-conscious of themselves whenever Daphne's nearby, counting her best friends too. The three girls never say it in front of their best friend, but even they had to concede and were self-aware in how beautiful Daphne is.

"Anyway, you up for the job?"

"I'm happy to help you out, Harry," she smiled.

"Great!" Harry smiled back sincerely and unconsciously, it had the girl blushing all over again. "I'll tell Professor Flitwick about this, and then you can access the special bathrooms and everything."

"Wait, what?" She wasn't expecting that.

"What, you think I'm just gonna let you help me without giving you something in return? You've earned equal status to prefects or a captain of a Quidditch team."

"B-but-"

"I think it's fair enough," Harry interrupted with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and a slight smile. "I'll be counting on you, Aiden. Now, go get yourself ready. I'll be calling everyone in the next two minutes."

Shannon started to walk away from him, but turned back to look at Harry. "Um…thanks, Harry." He nodded his head, slanting his head to the side as Aiden soared to the sky with a whoosh.

* * *

><p><strong>20 September 1992.<strong>

The next morning, Harry dressed in casual clothes.

Since there was no class today, students were free of having to wear the school uniform, and there was a Hogsmeade trip for all students except for the first and second years. Looking into the mirror, he blew out a breath of exasperation. He was wearing one of the outfits the Greengrass' had bought for him last winter. They were considerate enough on purchasing him a variety of Muggle fashion as they knew he was fond of the style. Harry was still in the process of getting comfortable with the idea of gifts, nonetheless he accepted them graciously. He decided then, that he looked very nice in expensive clothes, and the mirror seemed to agree with him as it remarked, "Very dashing."

Harry tilted his head slightly to the side, absently wondering why any of his mirrors back at home weren't like this one. It never failed to amuse him.

Smiling a little, he half-bowed to the mirror for the compliment, and with mischief gleaming in his eyes, he walked down to the common room. For the first time, he didn't bring his hat with him. Harry observed many of his housemates crowded around the notice board as he descended the stairs. He had instructed Shannon to post the Quidditch notice in the early morning as both of them had finalized who was to be on the team last night. Seeing that she was his second in command now, it was only fair for him to converse with her. He began to hear loud groans from the crowd - no doubt from those who didn't get picked to be on the team.

"Harry!" Before he knew it, he was engulfed in a huge hug, so huge, he nearly thought Sheila had snuck into the Ravenclaw common room. "I'm on the team!"

He rolled his eyes at the girl, letting a genuine smile grace his lips.

"Of course you are. I supervised the trial myself." He pushed her gently from him. "You earned it. It's a payment for all of your effort. But that doesn't mean I'll go easy on you. I'll treat you like everybody else in training, you got that?"

Callista just grinned at her friend.

"This calls for a celebration then. The girls will be happy to hear the news of your acceptance."

"I can't wait to tell them. Sheila will be so proud of me!" Callista squealed silently to herself.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go." Harry cocked an eyebrow as a stunned looking Xi-Li drifted away from the crowd. "Li?"

The said girl broke from her trance and her cheeks tinged pink. "P-Potter!"

"Li."

"Potter!"

"Li."

"Potter!"

"Li-"

"Stop that!" she snarled, grinding her teeth.

"Stop what?" Harry smirked.

"That!" Xi barked, infuriated.

"Where?" Harry looked to his sides.

"Not that! That!"

"What's what?"

"Yes, what!" Flushing in embarrassment, she howled, "N-n-not what! I mean that!"

"What are we talking again?" Harry did his best to look confused. He scratched his head to emphasize his point.

She opened her mouth but wisely shut it, realizing Harry was playing her. Burning in anger, every fiber of her body trembled in obvious rage, and seeing his smirk of amusement, she let out aggravated shout and prepared to lunge at him. Callista stepped in between the two, obstructing Li from tearing Harry into pieces.

Harry shook his head, smiling a little. "Congratulations on making the team, Li."

She glared him with eyes filled of suspicion, though the blush on her face didn't recede a bit.

"Yeah, that's right. I see your name on it too." Callista smiled brightly. "You're on the team as well, aren't you Xi?"

Xi beamed back at her friend. "Yeah, I'm the Seeker. I'm sharp and good at catching things. There's also another Seeker named Cho Chang, just two years below us."

"Congratulations then!"

Xi nodded her head, grinning. "Thanks! You too, Callista. Didn't know you had in you, playing as a Chaser too."

"Oh, she expresses her gratitude to other people...but not me?" Harry blinked his eyes innocently, appearing right behind Callista.

"S-shut up, Potter!"

"I'm hurt, Li." Harry brought his hands above his heart. "Don't you know that I put you on the team because I can't stay away from you?"

"W-what?" Her face was a nice shade of crimson.

Callista, irritated with Harry, elbowed his ribs strongly. She overlooked his moan of pain and smiled at her roommate. "Ignore Harry. He's just being his flirty self. You were selected to be on the team and means you're a great flyer, Xi."

"You don't have to be so rough..." Harry muttered with a sour look. "But she's right, Li. I'm just messing with you. I picked you because you're good."

She glanced away at his sincere look and mumbled coyly, "T-thanks..."

Walking to her, he grabbed one of her hands and placed a simple piece of parchment in it. On the parchment was his signature. Harry amusedly observed her reaction and wasn't disappointed. Her eyes sparkled in admiration as she recognized what he had given her.

"That's not for you, Li. It's for your sister. I've noticed she's been trying to get my autograph these past few weeks, but didn't have much of a success. Be sure to pass it on to her. I was thinking of giving it to her myself, but now you're here, so just do me a favor will ya?" Harry smirked one last time. "Well, we won't bother you anymore. We're just on our way down to breakfast. Come on Callista. I'm sure the girls will love to hear you're on the team."

Harry gladly allowed Callista to lead them both away. Looking back at Li, he could tell she was upset. She had too much pride in her to request for Harry's autograph for herself. Harry's eyes morphed into a color of gold, and the parchment in Li's hand duplicated, splitting into another one that she could keep. It was an easy charm for him to copy one thing permanently. Surprised, she looked up, her eyes finding Harry as he winked at her. He chuckled a little as her face turned red once again.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" His head shifted to the front, not halting their walk.

"Why are you looking at Xi?" Her tone was filled with wariness.

Harry glanced back at Li and shrugged. "No reason, actually."

"Oh?"

"Now that I think of Li, she is kind of attractive..." Harry murmured.

And he was right. Sure, she wasn't as attractive as Callista or any of his best friends, but Harry wasn't blind enough to not notice her good-looks. Her eyes were dark as midnight, her short, cropped navy hair was messy when she ruffled it in annoyance, and she had quite an athletic body. He wondered why she never attended any tryouts in her previous years at Hogwarts and yet this year she went for it. A figure of blushing Li emerged in his mind.

"W-what do you mean?" she questioned, demanding an answer.

"Nothing. Come on, let's not keep the girls waiting," Harry promptly muttered, still thinking of Li.

"O-okay..." Callista replied hesitantly.

* * *

><p>"I still think it's a bad idea," Sheila grunted uncharacteristically.<p>

"I agree," Regine grumbled, drinking her Butterbeer.

It was now afternoon and they had all gathered in the Three Broomsticks as they had always done in Hogsmeade. As usual, from the moment they stepped through the door, all attention was on Harry instantaneously. It didn't take long before he was surrounded by the occupants of the tavern. Thankfully, it all settled down with the help of Madam Rosmerta. Now, all of his fans left him and the girls alone, though Harry couldn't say the same for their eyes.

"I don't want to hear this again."

"Why not?" Daphne scowled.

Harry pursed his lips. "Maybe it's because yesterday I told you the reason over and over again?"

"I still say it's a bad idea," Sheila growled.

"Can't you help me out?" Harry addressed Callista. The girl just averted her eyes from him and sipped her Butterbeer politely. Harry heaved an exhausted sigh. "Look, with Aiden as my second, I'll have more free time. I can't execute my duties as both captain and prefect at the same time. There's also O. coming soon. If I hadn't appointed her then I'd be forced to deal with stress every each day, developing plans, dealing with all my responsibilities, and catching up with my studies. My head would explode if I had to endure all that. With Aiden helping me, I can spend the rest of my free time with you girls or relaxing."

That last statement perked four pair of ears, and their mood changed in an instant.

"Since you put it that way, then I guess we're okay with it, Harry," Callista said with a hint of smile. The other three girls nodded their head in satisfaction. Little by little Harry lifted an eyebrow, but grumbled incoherently, not understanding girls. He seriously needed a guy friend. He childishly chugged all of his Butterbeer, and he didn't budge when Regine sighed and tenderly wiped his mouth with her handkerchief.

Daphne stood up, brushing the soot off her skirt. She now held the attention of all the guys in the pub, and Harry glared them angrily. He really didn't like how the males eyed his best friends like some piece of property. It was true they were very pretty girls - and he readily admitted that to himself - but lusting after them, befriending them just to try and get into their pants was not something he approved of.

Last time, some arrogant berk from seventh year struck up a conversation with him, trying to use Harry to coax one of his best friends into dating the guy. It ended in him punching the guy's face and casting a spell to break the guy's left arm, all out of rage. Harry didn't care that he got detentions for two whole weeks. Not a single male could ever talk about his girls like something they could buy or sell and get away without nasty retribution from him. No one risked approaching him after that.

"I'll just be on my way to the bathroom," said Daphne.

"I'll accompany you, Daphne," Callista smiled, rising up from her seat.

Daphne returned her smile and both walked to the bathroom, chatting all the while.

Noting how Roger's eyes scrutinized Callista up and down, Harry growled possessively. Discreetly, Harry gazed at the large, ornate lamp situated above the guy. His eyes flashed to gold and the string that was attached to the lamp vanished, leaving it to plummet down onto Roger's head. There were shrieks and yelps, but Harry just smirked as few people attempted to assist the poor boy, helping him out from under the lamp and towing him out of the pub, a spot of blood smeared on his head. Oh yes, this _Mystic Eyes_ was certainly useful. Harry had been using it a lot to hurt the males who looked at his girls in a disgusting manner. The few accidents that occurred in Hogwarts, coincidentally happened only to the males, were all Harry's doing.

"I wonder what happened back there. It's strange how these accidents tend to happen to the guys," Regine mulled, concerned. Not so much concern for Roger, but more for Harry's well-being. "I hope you're always careful, Harry. I don't want any of those to happen to you."

"Don't worry, Regine. I'll take extra care, for your sake." Harry smirked out of amusement. However, Regine smiled at his words.

"I'm not worried. Harry can take care of himself," Sheila snorted in her Butterbeer. "Besides, it's always funny when it happens."

"I think Daphne has influenced you a lot, Sheila."

She gasped dramatically. "Oh Merlin, you're right, Harry. I think the snake infected me with her disease!"

Regine rolled her eyes, grinning. "If Daphne heard you, she'll hex you for sure."

"I have my protection right here!" she announced, hooking her right arm into Harry's left.

"Hey, don't drag me into this," Harry joked. "I'll make sure I'm miles away from here before I get the chance to face her wrath."

They all chortled at that. It was legend how scary Daphne could be, even Snape was known to have back down from her.

"What's taking those two so long?" Sheila marveled. "I think I'm going to check up on them. Be right back, you guys!"

With a wide grin, she ran in the direction of the bathroom and clumsily collided into one of the tables.

"Where does she get all that energy from? Even I'm not that enthusiastic," Harry smiled.

"It's just how Sheila is. It's a good thing, though. We need someone who can cheer us up."

"True, true. I like the way she is, the way you girls are. You four haven't changed a bit in all these years. I want it remain that way."

"But you, on the other hand, Harry, are a complete different person."

Harry fluttered his eyes, his gaze landing on her face.

"Really?" Regine nodded her head, smiling widely. "Is that... a bad thing?"

She shook her head. "Nope... I say it's neither bad nor good."

"Huh?"

"I mean it's good that you smile more often and enjoy life as much as you can, but we kind of miss the old you."

"The old me?"

Regine chuckled at his bewildered look. It was so cute. "Uh huh, the old you... You know, the Harry who was a very cold and grumpy person, roughly pushing people away, glaring at everyone he met, never thinking life could be enjoyable, a kid who rarely smiled and never missed the chance to have a scowl on his face...an aloof person. Kind of like Daphne, but even she is more carefree and open than the old you."

That's true, however, for the most part of his changes was derived from the Mirror of Erised. Subsequent to witnessing what his heart desire most, he did change a lot after that. "So um..." Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably, hesitant. "How I am right now...? Is it a good thing?"

"Like I said, it's neither good nor bad. It's more...in the middle...but it's a relief to see you smile more often, Harry. It really is..." Regine stared dazedly at his face, lost in his emerald eyes.

"What?" Harry asked softly. "Is there something on my face?"

Regine tore her gaze from him, mutely shaking her head. She avoided looking into his eyes and put great effort into concealing the heavy blush that currently bloomed on both of her cheeks, matching the color of her scarlet hair. She cursed his good looks. Harry himself knew he was a pretty attractive guy, but he always underestimated how truly handsome he was. Not to mention his emerald eyes...they were so alluring that if you stared into them, you were completely and utterly lost.

"Sheila?" Regine snapped out of her reverie at Harry's voice, looking up just to see her friend rush outside.

Harry wasted no time pursuing Sheila. Rising up, Regine followed behind him.

Running a bit, Harry caught Sheila's arm and spun her around gently. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"U-um, it's n-nothing." Sheila smiled weakly. "Listen, um, I have to go… I'll see you guys later…There's something that uh- came up… yeah…"

She removed Harry's hand from her arm and dashed in the direction of the carriages, intent on heading back to the castle.

"Sheila!" Regine shouted worriedly, having arrived on the scene just in time to see Sheila take off.

Harry whirled around as Daphne and Callista jogged up to them. "What did you two do?" His tone was accusing.

Suddenly, both looked guilty, caught off guard by his tone.

"She was eavesdropping on our conversation and we didn't notice she was nearby. When we heard the sound of rustling, it was far too late by then," Callista replied quietly.

"And you didn't bother to put a Silencing Charm around you?" Harry felt anger welling up inside him.

"What were you two talking about, anyway?" Regine rescued them both from Harry's wrath and sent him a look to back off.

"As to why I'm not a prefect…" Daphne muttered, slight guilt lingering in her eyes.

"Oh? I thought you say Snape didn't pick you?" Regine pressed her.

"I…" Daphne shook her head. "...rejected the position actually. I figured the rest of us would have been chosen as one - we're undoubtedly excellent in our academics - but Jonnet wouldn't have been picked. I thought she'd feel left out if all four of us were prefects and she wasn't."

"It will be hard to talk with her. She'll be avoiding us now because of you two. You know how sensitive she is when it comes to matters about her intellectual. This is troublesome," Harry growled. His right hand clenched into a tight fist.

"We know that... It's the precise reason we never mentioned it when she was around," Callista murmured. "But-"

"But you just had to do it in a public bathroom. Why couldn't it be in safer place, huh? A more private location? But no, it had to be in a freaking bathroom. I thought you were a very smart person, Callista. Guess you just forgot to use your brain!" Harry harshly interrupted. "I can't believe how stupid you were."

"Harry!" Regine exclaimed.

"Potter, it was unintentional." Daphne came to her friend's defense.

However, Daphne's words were too late as Harry's had already deeply hurt her. No one had ever told her she was an idiot before. This was the first time, and it was from Harry's own mouth...it felt like a knife slicing through her heart. Callista shut her eyes tightly and faced away, tears forming in both of her eyes. Harry sighed, running his hand through his hair. He needed to learn when to shut his mouth. Moving to her friend, he snaked his left arm around her shoulders and hugged her. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to say that..." She just nodded her head, burying her face deeper into his chest. Harry extended his right hand and grasped Daphne's left. He knew his words had affected her too.

"I'm sorry..." Daphne nodded her head, slight teary.

"What about Sheila?" Regine spoke after a moment had passed by, still concerned with her other friend.

"Just leave her to me," said Harry tiredly. "I'll talk to her... somehow…"


	14. Chapter 13, Season 2

**Chapter 13.**

**20 September 1992.**

After the Hogsmeade trip, Harry made the decision to talk to Sheila alone.

He would attempt to knock some sense into her. He convinced the girls that Sheila would be back to her cheerful and perky self first thing in the morning. In spite of his promise, Harry was so confident that it led the girls to be doubtful of his words. How was Harry going to change Sheila back to herself in just one night? She had really seemed hurt. Striding his way to his dorm, Harry discerned the presence of his roommates. He casually opened his trunk and grabbed his Nimbus 2001. Ensuring he wasn't being watched by his roommates, he wandlessly shrunk his broom and crammed the now tiny object into one of his pockets. He then whistled a familiar tune and swept out of the room.

Hands clasped behind his back, he bounced along the hall and continued down the stairs. Informing Callista he'd be back prior to curfew, he shuffled his way out of the common room before she could utter a word. Without another thought, Harry sauntered to the seventh floor. Paying no heed to his surroundings, he directly approached the Fat Lady's portrait. He smirked as he knew that the portrait covered the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower. Oh yes, from time to time, he would accompany one of the girls to their house common room, but it was mostly Regine. He rarely went to the Gryffindor or the Slytherin common room.

"Harry!" the Fat Lady squeaked excitedly, pressing herself forward and at the same time futilely struggling to get out of the frame. Frantically, she snatched small mirror from within her gown and checked her appearance. After finishing that, she batted her eyelashes suggestively at him. "What brings you here, Harry?"

Harry's lips twitched and he greatly restrained the urge to grin. "That's a secret…" He laid a finger on his lips and winked at her.

The Fat Lady giggled shamelessly, blushing at how appealing he was. Without any qualms, he was certainly an eye-candy for the females in Hogwarts, particularly those admiring him from behind picture frames. The Fat Lady supposed he had inherited most of his genes from his mother side. But she couldn't deny that a portion of Harry's good looks came from his father's handsome face.

"So, may I enter?"

In an instant, she switched her giddy antics into solemnity. "I don't know, Harry. This tower is for lions only. It would be violating the rules if I allow you in. If you do wish to enter, at the very least a Gryffindor should accompany you."

"Ah, come on, no harm in breaking a few rules..." Harry pouted. "Nobody will know. This is just between the two of us. I'll tell everybody that I entered the Gryffindor Tower another way..."

"Oh, I don't know, Harry..." She couldn't help but giggle madly. Looking at him again, she surrendered. "Oh, alright…but nobody will know of this, got it?"

"Of course. It will be an intimate secret just between the two of us..." Harry winked.

After more giggling and blushing, the portrait swung open. Harry stepped inside the Gryffindor common room. He wouldn't tell anyone alright, but the Gryffindors weren't stupid enough to miss him entering their common room by way of the portrait. It would be clearly seen that the Fat Lady permitted Harry to enter the lion's den. He scanned the common room, but still no one took notice of his arrival. The usual tapestries, paintings, and decorations were all still there. The place was exactly like it was the last time he came.

"What are you doing here?" Ron finally exclaimed, looking up from the chess game he was so engrossed. Just like that, every pair of eyes stirred to Harry. The first and second years were very much surprised at this new arrival as they never once seen Harry Potter in their Gryffindor Tower. Daniel's eyes bulged and tongue lolled, foiling him from saying a single word. What was his brother doing in their common room and how did he enter without a password? Harry cast a glance at the Weasley boy and then pivoted his eyes to the student next to him.

"Oh, nothing. Just checking this place out. It's been a long time since I've been here." He smirked at the only girl of the Golden Trio. "Hello, Hermione..."

"H-Hi!" She scrambled for her book and hid her hot face behind it. The book she was holding, however, was upside down.

Ron glared furiously at how Hermione reacted. He jumped to his feet and demanded, "Where did you get in?"

"Are you trying to kick me out?" Harry's eyes darkened and the boy squeaked pitifully as he shrank down into his previous seat. Out of fear, he shook his head rapidly. Harry's expression reverted back to normal. "I thought you might have been suggesting that. As to where, well..."

Harry looked over his shoulders to where the portrait entrance was, then back to the Weasley boy in mild incredulity. It was so painfully obvious where he came in. A few let out chuckle at how dense the Weasley boy was. Out of blue, two Gryffindors each slung an arm over Harry's shoulders. It was none other than the Weasley twins. They both wore a large grin and their eyes were full of mischievousness.

"Ignore our idiot brother, Harry."

"He's as thick as a rock."

Harry arched an eyebrow at their friendly manner. It was far too amiable for his liking. "If you two prank me, you'll get it back a hundred times worse. I know it's one of your ultimate goals, considering you two weren't very successful when it comes to pranking me, and I know you're determined to succeed no matter what."

"Oy Fred! He's suspicious of us!" George shouted jokingly.

"We're hurt, Harry. You think so little of us. Now, why would we do that?"

A vicious smirked tugged the corner of his lips. "I have no idea. But just a bit of a heads up if you two must know, the girls are not exactly the forgiving type." That froze the twins and Harry shook himself out of their grasp, still smirking. The twins were swamped in realization as the same thoughts ran through their minds.

If they did prank Harry, Sheila would surely have their heads. And there was Regine, who was known to be friendly with Hagrid. Who knows what kind of dangerous creatures she could set loose upon them. There was also Callista, a girl who had an excellent charms reputation and who possessed an intellect superior to any girl in the school, including Gryffindor resident bookworm, Hermione. Who knows what kind of crazy plot her brilliant mind could craft. They both began to sweat and they swallowed fearfully at the though of Daphne Greengrass, the Ice Princess, who was widely known to be very protective of her friends…especially Harry.

The twins tittered nervously, backing away from the guy. "W-well enjoy our hospitality, Harry. We have something to do." They shivered at the picture of Slytherin's Ice Princess hunting them down. That girl was a demon. They didn't want to wind up like Percy. The beautiful blonde didn't care about his prefect status. By the end of the day, Percy was in the infirmary, all for causing her Ravenclaw friend discomfort.

Harry's eyes shimmered mischievously as a figure caught his attention. Angelina Johnson was sitting on one of the long sofas, watching him and the twins interact from afar. She flushed through her dark skin once their gazes clashed. Alicia Spinnet was also perched on the sofa with her friend. Between them, there was just enough room for another to sit.

"Boys, if you'll excuse me…" He darted off, and then impossibly materialized in the middle of the two girls. He flung both of his hands over the girls' shoulders. "Hey, Johnson, I haven't seen you in a while."

"Um...H-hey, H-Harry..." He smirked, making her blush more. Then he exhibited his sultry smirk towards Spinnet's direction. Her reaction was instantaneous, her face reddened madly. "You look good in that outfit, Spinnet. It shows off your curves perfectly…but to be honest, I fancy you more in Quidditch uniform. You look more strong and beautiful in that kind of style. I could stare at you for hours."

"T-thanks!" She clamped both hands over her mouth, embarrassed at her high-pitched voice. Harry inclined his head to the side as unfamiliar face swam into his view. His forehead creased, then he grinned slightly at recalling the girl's name.

"And you must be Katie Bell. I heard that Sheila took you under her wing. Pleasure to meet you." He held out his hand.

She replied courteously, but nervously, "P-Pleasure to m-meet you to-oo."

Katie was more than aware of Harry's recent fame as the youngest professional Quidditch star. She shakily held out her hand and reached for his. She was ignorant to the gasps from the other girls around her and the furious glares burning into the back of her head. She thought she would die when Harry brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles lightly. But if she did die, she would die in heaven, with no regrets at all. Fortunately, Katie just fainted with a dreamy smile.

"Bloody hell..." Fred croaked as his shoulders slumped. "He's truly out of our league..."

"Why can't girls fall for us like they do with him?" George wondered out loud, sulking.

* * *

><p>"What are they doing? They should throw him out! This is for Gryffindors only!" Ron hissed. He, Daniel and the Weasley twins were in the corner of the room, gazing at Harry from afar. The rest of the males were doing the same, moping around. "We should tell McGonagall!"<p>

"Ron, I don't think we should make a big deal out of it. He's just...err...visiting..." But Daniel was unsure of the validity of the statement. Visiting was far from what Harry was doing at the present. Daniel blinked his eyes as the girls that were crowding his brother giggled at something Harry said. Daniel shook his head in amazement as one of the girls was Hermione. Heck, most of the girls in the common room had surrounded his brother, eyes full of admiration of him. This was the side of Harry that Daniel didn't know. He had no idea his older brother is a very... suave… person. Yes, suave might be the best word to describe for his brother.

"Why not?" Ron snarled, feeling angrier by the second. "He's not a Gryffindor and this place is for Gryffindors only. I say we tell McGonagall straight away!"

"That's not gonna work on him, dear Ronnikins."

"That's right, just save your breath."

"Why is that?" he barked at the twins.

"Because..." The twins simultaneously left their words hanging. They pointed their fingers just as McGonagall climbed in through the portrait hole. Her eyebrows shot up at what her eyes took in. She cleared her throat and all attention was diverted to her.

"Mr. Potter, I'm somewhat surprised to see you here."

"Oh, it's not a problem, is it, Professor?"

"No, no. I was just about to make an announcement for the Gryffindors, but now that you're here... I suppose I'll announce it another time then," she said firmly. "It's... been a long time since I have seen you in the Gryffindor common room. Be sure to get back to your own dormitory before curfew, Mr. Potter."

"Sure thing, Professor." An idea struck him and he resisted the urge to grin. "Say Professor, do you still remember the time you asked for my help? You know about you assisting the first year?"

"Y-yes, Mr. Potter?" There was a hue of red on her cheeks.

Harry feigned a confused look. "Which one is it? Can you tell me who it is?"

She coughed violently at that, and the red on her face escalated. "I ought to leave now. I have matters to attend to. Do excuse me..." she muttered, dashing out of the common room before anyone blinked an eye.

"See?"

"McGonagall didn't mind."

"Never did."

"Never does."

"Never will." They finished concurrently.

"Harry!" The voice boomed throughout the common room and a tense silence fell.

Harry smoothly brightened up. "I was beginning to wonder if you weren't even in the tower, Sheila." Inside, he was relieved. He almost ran out of ideas on what to say to the crowds of the girls. It was just a ploy for him to get Sheila come down from her dormitory. He rose up and squeezed his way through the crowd of girls. A few were bold enough to slightly grind their body into his.

"I knew something was up, and it was you all along!" she accused angrily and stomped her way down the stairs.

"Yeah, I- Woahhh!" He didn't get to finish his sentence as she yanked him strongly along with her and out of the common room.

The twins moaned in despair. "Even our Sheila!"

* * *

><p>"Just half a day-" Sheila breathed in irritation. "Half a day, you're out of our sight and this is the result of it!"<p>

"Now, now, let's take a deep breath and calm down…" Harry chuckled anxiously, muscles coiled in preparation for any assaults. They had now reached the courtyard, just below the Gryffindor tower.

Sheila was about to say something but sighed in exhaustion. She wasn't in the mood to yell at Harry right now. "Look, Harry. Just go back to your common room. Curfew is just around the corner…" she mumbled almost unintelligibly. "Filch will catch you if you're wandering around the castle."

Harry had to strain just to hear what she was saying. "Why would you care? It's not like you're bound by the rules. C'mon, Sheila, we _always _break them or have you already forgotten the wild escapades we've gone through? This is nothing compared to what we've done before."

"But you're a prefect, aren't you? So be responsible-"

"I never cared about this prefect stuff from the beginning. The only reason I put up with it is to protect Callista and Regine, nothing more. If it weren't for that, I wouldn't even bother accepting it. I'm not good with responsibilities anyway," Harry interjected softly.

He looked up the sky, smiling slightly at the moon. It was so beautiful. The moon had always been his companion in his time of loneliness back in his childhood. It sliced through the darkness for him during night.

"So, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Harry turned back to his friend. "The girls are worried about you..."

Sheila fell silent, resisting the temptation of looking him in the eye. Harry brought out his tiny broom and his wand. Tapping the broom gently, it increased to its normal size. "How about we fly around the castle? I could show you a few moves." With eyes full of mischievousness, Harry climbed on his broom and looked at Sheila in expectation.

"What? But McGonagall-"

"What McGonagall doesn't know won't hurt her." Sheila bit her lip, hesitant. "You'd better hurry up. I think I heard Filch's cat just now."

At that, she hurriedly clambered onto the back of Harry's broom and shakily wrapped her arms around him. She blushed madly when she touched his muscles. "Alright, hold on tight." Harry abruptly jerked his broom upwards. Sheila yelped at the unexpected movement and was thrown back. She just barely had time to seize Harry around his stomach, her face buried into his back.

"Hey, not too fast! You're going to kill us!" she screamed.

"Isn't that the whole point?" Harry charged through the sky, rising higher and higher from the ground. They could now see the whole castle grounds from their place in the night sky. "Alright, ready?"

"What? No, don't do it, Harry! Don't. You. Dare!" Her words only encouraged Harry, his eyes glinting maniacally.

"Watch me." Swerving his broom violently, Harry took a sudden dive. They rushed to the ground at a breakneck speed.

"Haaarrryyyy!" she cried loudly, her short, spiky hair tousled messily. Her eyes shut fearfully and her grip around his waist tightened. "I'm going to die and I haven't made a will yet! Mom, wherever you are, I'm so sorry I ate your favorite cupcakes, and Dad, sorry I can't beat you in Quidditch anymore!"

Just as they closed in on the ground, Harry pulled up and once more took off into the air. He was clearly laughing, enjoying the freedom of the sky and also the reaction from his Gryffindor friend. "What's this? Aren't Gryffindors supposed to brave? I thought for sure you were going to pass out, Sheila."

Her cheeks flushed, her breathing labored after such an experience. Regardless of how good she was at flying, she would never typically do something as extreme as Harry. It was outrageous! "Easy for you to say! I told you to never pull that stunt again, it's risky and nuts! It's even far more dangerous than Wronski Feint! You could kill us both with the simplest mistake!"

"Hey, don't get all angry with me, Jonnet. Just admit that you can't beat me in the sky. It's my territory. No one can ever touch me when I'm on a broom." Hearing this, she seethed. She pinched his stomach quite strongly. "Ouch! Oy, don't pinch me there! I'm steering a broom here and it's doubly hard when I have a passenger with me! I could lose control!"

Harry wriggled on the broom, trying to avoid Sheila's pinches, although he was laughing as he did so. After a while, a peaceful silence fell between the two of them. They now flew across the lake at a gloriously slow speed, almost skimming the water. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Harry glanced at Sheila over his shoulder, but still she wasn't responding him. She dropped her hand and let it drag through the lake's surface. "So are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

After a moment of silence, "...I've just been a burden to you all, dragging all of you down..."

"We never said that." Harry frowned.

"No, but it's the truth," Sheila muttered, her gaze hardening. It was so unlike her. "You all have to work pretty hard for exams, but then there's me. Sometimes I need something explained many times before I understand. I hate it... I hate how I'm slowing you guys down. I hate how stupid I am, and I hate it how much of a problem I am to you all, especially to Callista. Ever since I met her, she's been making notes for me, trying to help me do better in my classes. Even Daphne and Regine help me out when they obviously have better things to do. It's like I'm giving them more work, and O.W.L are coming soon. I don't want to bring their grades down."

"You do know I'm causing them more trouble than you ever were. As a matter of fact, I guess I'm burdening you too." Harry smiled sheepishly, scratching his right cheek in embarrassment. But his smile gradually faded when Sheila didn't even chuckle at his joke. "So, when you knew we were all chosen to be prefects, it just hit your nerve."

Harry heard a sad sigh. "More or less... It hurts when I was the only one of us who didn't get chosen. For other people, this whole thing might be silly, but it isn't for me. It's just..."

"-not right for you to be left out. It's awkward for you to be the only one who isn't a prefect, who isn't 'smart', while the rest of your best friends are, is that it? You figure that you don't belong in our group because of that ridiculous reason?" She didn't respond, just snuggled up against Harry more. He felt something wet dampen his shirt, but he didn't care.

"You know, Sheila, we've never judged you on your brain. We like you just the way you are. To us, there is no one brighter than the sun. Your dazzling smile is what lights up the fire inside us every day we spend with you." A slight sniff could be heard. "Every person in this world is different, even if they and someone else share the same interests, look alike, or have similar personalities. We are all separate people, and we all have unique perspectives, tastes, and views on the world. Even twins like Fred and George have differences. You never know how people really are inside them. So what if you don't have superhuman intelligence, hmm?"

Harry twisted his head to her, smiling slightly. "We're fine with who you are. Don't try to accomplish something that was never meant for you in the first place. Do something you're good at. Every person has their own strengths and weaknesses. Callista may be academically smarter than many others, but her weakness lies in the practical. We always beat her in Defense class, but she's out of our league when it comes to Charms. The same goes for me, Daphne, and Regine. We each have our own field to play and this includes you as well. Who's going to teach us all how to transfigure something if you're not there? Who's going to train everyone in dueling?"

"There's Daphne..."

"Yes, she's pretty good, but she's only creative when it comes to offense and not defense. If you're not there to correct her mistake, she'll still just attack her opponent without dodging or defending herself from the incoming spells," Harry interjected. "Umm...don't tell her I told you that. She'll get angry and hex me for sure."

Sheila chuckled and wiped away the tears that smeared her cheeks. "She's a great friend, Harry. She rejected the position so that I wouldn't feel left out."

"Yeah, she is..." He smiled fondly as the gorgeous blond girl floated to the forefront of his mind. If it weren't for her, he would never have had the chance to get know her family. At the end of his first year, she yanked him along with her for introductions, and implored him to have dinner with the family though not caring for a second about his answer or his protest. "Well then, let's get you back to your dorm and try to meet with the girls first thing in the morning, okay? They're really worried about you, so much so that Daphne hasn't been sleeping well. You know how she is with her beauty sleep."

"Right, I will," she said determinedly. "Hey, are we going back already?"

"Yeah, why?"

A wide grin spread across her face. "I thought you were going to show me a few moves!"

Harry was taken aback, but smirked. "Alright then. Hold on tight, Jonnet. I won't be responsible if we get caught because of your screaming."

"Hah!" she retorted. "Like that will happen, Potter."

And her shrieks rang out across the moonlit grounds.

* * *

><p><strong>31 October 1992.<strong>

"This place is brilliant," Harry commented, watching the little elves hurriedly doing their respective jobs. "I never knew this place existed. I mean, a kitchen filled with house elves in Hogwarts?"

"We're pleased you like it, Harry," Callista smiled, helping herself to more pumpkin juice. Daphne nodded her head, eyes closing as she shoved a handful of cake into her mouth and savored the taste. Sheila sat beside her, too caught up in her pudding to pay any attention to what Harry had just said. The girls had long since reconciled and were now back to their usual warmth with each other.

"How did you girls find this place?"

"Cedric told me," Regine answered simply.

Harry frowned at this. "Is he still bothering you, Regine?"

"Not much." Regine chewed a tasty sandwich. "Well, these days I usually just end up ignoring him. That, and sometimes I used Daphne to keep him away from me. When he mentioned the kitchens in one of his babbles, it interested me. So, all of us went to investigate, and we found this."

Harry absentmindedly took a slice of pie, handed to him by Callista, and nibbled it. "Can't believe with all the adventures we went through, with all the places we've discovered, we couldn't stumble on this one."

"Yeah..." Sheila mumbled with a mouthful of pudding.

Regine and Callista reduced to fits of giggles at their friend's antics while Harry struggled to suppress his smile.

Daphne grimaced. "Jonnet, swallow your food first before talking! That's disgusting."

Sheila swallowed this time and shot her friend a glare. "Shut up, Daph."

She stuck her tongue and Daphne countered it with the same action. The other three just chortled at their interactions. Neither of the two ever yielded in anything, even in a trivial matter such as this. Still chuckling, Regine brought out her handkerchief and warmly wiped the bits of food from around Sheila's mouth. Grinning in thanks, the Gryffindor carried on eating in her unladylike manner.

"I have no idea what we're going to do with her in the future," Daphne said, a small smirk gracing her lips.

Sheila, for once, was too content to pay her comment any heed.

"Anyway..." Callista smiled at her friends before turning to Harry. "We know how much you hate celebrating Halloween, so we came to the decision to bring you here, Harry."

Harry bobbed his head. "Thanks, I appreciate your effort."

At that, a comfortable silence elapsed. Suddenly, in the middle of sipping her drink, Regine's body went rigid and her eyes snapped open. With a look of shock, she slowly placed her drink down. Callista, with her sharp gaze, spotted the movement and became concerned for her Hufflepuff friend. "Regine? Is something wrong?" Perceiving Callista's voice, all attention swung to Regine. A look of discomfort had now settled on her face.

Regine abruptly stood up. "W-we have to go, something's happened."

"Wait, Regine!"

Harry cursed to himself as his friend scurried out of the kitchen. Abandoning his meal, he rushed to chase after her. Sheila childishly moaned in disappointment as she was forced to abandon her pudding. She whimpered when she was hauled out of her seat by her two friends. All of them caught up to Regine as they encountered a mass of students crowding at a certain corridor. Seeing this, Harry became curious at what was all the fuss about. Pushing a few people away, he pressed himself into the crowds and wriggled to the front. The girls trailed behind.

His eyes widened. Harry barely registered the gasps from Regine, the sound of Callista's breath hitching, Daphne stiffening beside him or Sheila standing motionless, too engrossed in the scene to say anything. He couldn't blame them. This was just as much of a shock to him. There, hung Mrs. Norris, petrified, her body turned as cold and hard as a stone. Harry fluttered his eyes and circled his head to read the writing on one of the walls. His forehead crinkled together. But it wasn't the words that disturbed him, it was the ink that had been used to inscribe the message.

Blood.

Harry could hear his heart pounding, adrenaline pumping through his muscles.

This wasn't much of a joke to him. Prank or not, it wasn't funny at all. Harry was sure it wasn't human blood - human blood was much lighter in color than any blood of a living being. His awareness transferred back up to the front and he noticed how everybody was reacting. He wasn't surprised that everyone was pointing their finger and whispering about the Gryffindor trio. He shook his head. Sometimes he didn't know if being a Potter was a curse or a blessing. Misfortune had a tendency to go looking for them. Harry was no exception either, he still remembered all the trouble he went through in his life.

He scowled as Draco Malfoy pushed to the front. The boy grinned at the sight of hanging, immobile cat, his cold eyes alive. Malfoy looked at the writing on the wall and then confronted the crowds, grinning even more. Harry's fists clenched tightly, having a good idea of what the Slytherin was going to say next.

"Enemies of the heir, beware! That means you Mud-" He didn't get to finish his sentence when a fist lashed out straight to his nose. The whispers dwindled away. Malfoy staggered back with the force of the impact, sporting a broken bloody nose. Crabbe and Goyle managed to catch Malfoy before he fell to the ground. They both looked fearfully at the culprit.

"I…" Harry breathed, hissing acidly. "…really hate that word."

He truly did. Because of that word, Callista suffered greatly in her early time at Hogwarts. Older Slytherin Purebloods kept calling her that during their first year. Now, even knowing the name wasn't meant for her, she recoiled automatically at just hearing it. Harry still hadn't forgiven those bastards for all the bullying they did, even if they were not in Hogwarts anymore. Even with the many beatings they had taken from Harry, he still wasn't satisfied. If Daphne was protective of their group, Harry was beyond over-protective.

Callista and Regine grasped a hold of each of his arms and forcefully towed him back to their previous spot.

"What's going on here? What's going on?"

Filch had arrived on the scene, no doubt attracted by the sound of Malfoy's earlier shouting. The said boy had fainted from the punch.

"My cat! What happened to her?" he wailed.

"You!" he screeched. Daniel snapped out of his daze, his eyes widening when the caretaker approached him looking like he was ready to strangle him to death. "You've murdered my cat! You killed Mrs. Norris! I'll kill you! I'll-"

"Argus!" Dumbledore's voice boomed throughout the corridor. The crowds parted for the headmaster. He stopped short, along with a number of teachers behind him. "What has happened to Mr. Malfoy?"

Both Crabbe and Goyle responded instantly, shakily pointing their fingers to Harry.

"Potter! I should have known!" Snape brushed past Dumbledore. "What have you done to him? Speak up, Potter!"

Harry's gaze hardened for a moment before he shrugged uncaringly. "I punched him in the face or are you too blind to see that, Professor?"

Snape's face flushed with rage. "How dare you, you arrogant little-"

"Severus, that's enough." There was no twinkle in his eyes and he appeared to be gravely serious. He looked at Harry with a stern expression. "Mr. Potter, your behavior in your time at Hogwarts has been very much unacceptable. There is no reason for you to act so violently towards your fellow students."

"Albus, that's unfair to Mr. Potter!" Flitwick defended Harry. "He has always been acting under such things with generally rational reasons."

"I agree, Albus," McGonagall said sharply. "Care for an explanation as to why you did this, Mr. Potter?"

Lockhart clicked his tongue to shut himself up for once in his life. The memories of what Harry had done to him still haunted him, day and night.

"If Malfoy kept his big mouth shut then I wouldn't resort to such violence. Besides, it was accident, Professor."

"Accident!" Snape hissed. "Accident for you to punch a boy who's three years younger than you, you stupid arrogant boy?"

"Malfoy was calling the Muggleborns a foul name, Professor. It is understandable if Harry reacts to it unconsciously, judging on how he has been in some previous occasions when someone used such vulgar name. Surely someone of your standing can comprehend that," Daphne casually said.

"Professor," Callista called out. "As much as we can prolong this debate, you have more important matters to attend to than some petty fight. I suggest you deal with this far from prying eyes."

"Petty, you say?" Snape's mouth curled into a sneer. He knew what the girl was up to. She was attempting to distract their attention from Harry. However, Snape wouldn't fall for that easily. He had been waiting to punish the Potter boy ever since his first year, and this was an opportunity that was rare for him. As much as he loathed admitting it, the group was practically untouchable, much unlike the younger Potter. The trio was easy enough, but their group was unreachable and slippery. "I-"

"Enough is enough, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted sternly. "Mrs. Campbell is right." In seconds, he detached Mrs. Norris from the torch blanket. "Bring Mr. Malfoy to the infirmary and allow Madam Pomfrey to check up on him." He addressed Crabbe and Goyle. "As for you, Mr. Potter, I will trust your head house to deal with your punishment. Next time, do please restrain yourself from doing such things. Is that clear, Harry?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry muttered. He had to control himself from smirking at Snape enraged looks.

Dumbledore, with satisfaction swarming his features and a slight twinkle in his eye, nodded his head and then announced to the rest of the crowds, "As for the rest, it's time for all of you to return back to your dorms, except for the three of you." He spoke this to the Gryffindor trio. "Run along now, all of you." The crowds immediately dispersed from the incident. Harry and the girls lagged behind. He glanced to the professors one last time before submerging into a deep thought on what had just occurred moments ago.

Chamber of Secrets. Now, why hadn't he heard anything about this chamber before?

* * *

><p><strong>7 November 1992.<strong>

Harry sighed inaudibly as he closed another book and placed it on the table. Snatching another one, he let the dusty pages flutter open and endeavored to find any information concerning this Chamber of Secrets. Harry wasn't going to lie, his interest was piqued after that Halloween night. He was almost obsessed. This week, all he had done was research this chamber that he never heard of in his entire life. Even the old man never mentioned it before so why had it suddenly appeared now? Oh yes, Harry knew the _real _history of the four founders, much about their lives, and even what they truly looked like.

He knew who Salazar Slytherin was, but he doubted his fellow students really did. All he heard about him evil these days was just bunch of bollocks. In his childhood, Merlin had enlightened Harry with many stories thought to be legends and myths, but that truly existed. Seeing how it interested young Harry, the old man had initiated a history class just for him. Knowing the truth, Harry never paid attention in History class. The instant he took his seat was the instant he took a nap. It grew into a routine for him. He didn't spend a second on a book that detailed the history of the Wizarding World. Whereas he believed that half of the facts were true, he also believed half of it was false. The only time he required the books was when exams approached.

Nevertheless, amongst all subjects he learned in his life, his favorite one was history. All the great wars between magical creatures, how the Muggles hunted witches and wizards back in the middle age, how heroes sacrificed themselves for the sake of the people, and so much more…it all just enticed him. His favorite tale dealt with the subject of King Arthur. His reign was the time of magic. It was a time where powerful people such as King Arthur and Merlin existed. It was where Magic was at its heightened peak. That was the reason why King Arthur's period was called the Age of Magic.

Harry heaved a weary sigh. It was a waste of time and aberrant for him to look in one useless book after the other, just to find anything about that blasted chamber. Grumbling in annoyance, he thumped the book to shut it and set it aside. He propped his head up on one hand and his other drummed restlessly on the table, his eyes scrutinizing over to the mountain of books. He let loose another sigh. And this week's research attempts had been in vain. He could request Callista to assist him, and that would speed things up much faster, but he rebuffed the idea. Simply put, he didn't desire for her to be involved, and if she was, the other three would definitely follow.

"So, this is what the great Harry Potter has been doing this week, surrounding himself with books at the back of the library," an amused voice sprang up, intruding on his musings. "Why are you reading history books, Potter? It's so not you. If I recall perfectly, you have never bothered to know or learn anything about history."

"Daphne, please, it's not good to pry other people's business," Callista chastised her friend good-naturedly. Procuring a seat next to Harry, she stared at him in expectance. "So, what exactly are you doing Harry?"

Harry grunted. "What happen to 'it's not good to pry other people's business', hmm?"

"What ever do you mean, Harry?" Her voice was full of incredulity.

"You're quite good at pretending to be innocent, aren't you?" Harry accused, narrowing his eyes.

She just fluttered her eyelashes in a convincingly gullible manner.

"So, what are you up to, Harry?" reiterated Sheila. She inspected one book after another.

With irritation on his face, Harry seized all of the books from her grasp. "Nothing." He slapped her hand away when she was stretching out for one of the volumes. Sheila pouted cutely and massaged her sore hand.

Daphne, with a spark in her eye, smirked as she glanced at the two books in each of her own hands. "Oh, don't worry, Jonnet. I know what he's doing."

"Ah..." Callista smiled knowingly and she also came to a conclusion. "You're searching for the Chamber of Secrets, aren't you, Harry?"

Scowling, Harry's lips twitched in aggravation. Of course, there was no point in hiding anything from them. They would find it out sooner or later. They all were brilliant after all. His probability of effectively hiding a secret from them was close to zero percent. In addition, there was the fact that they knew him better than himself, so it was no use lying.

"Wait." Sheila's voice was crammed with excitement. "You didn't know about the Chamber of Secrets, Harry?"

Harry frowned, swept by surprise. "You know about it?"

"Of course!" she squealed. "I can't believe I know something that Harry doesn't!"

He frowned more, budging his eyes to the other two girls. "You two as well." His statement was confirmed as a smug look crept onto Callista's face. She hardly ever did that and it's nothing like her at all. This was one of the rare times she possessed some knowledge that he didn't.

"Potter, the chamber is actually common knowledge these days." Daphne's smirk extended and didn't go unnoticed.

"What common knowledge?" he hissed viciously. "I spend a whole fucking week - a week! - searching for any information regarding this damn chamber but there's nothing in the bloody books!"

"Harry, control your language," Callista reprimanded him lightly. "It's not a surprise as to why the text didn't tell you about the chamber as people believe it to be fable, just a simple tale, a non-existent one. A story that people have passed on from one person to another."

His research was a complete waste of time then. Groaning noisily, Harry slammed his head on the table. The sound was loud and the girls cringed. He carried on his self-despondent behavior, cursing under his breath. Fortunately, when the girls arrived, Callista had set a silencing charm around them. She didn't fancy another episode of Madam Pince chucking her out of the library.

"That's not true," Sheila chimed in.

Harry elevated his head, chins on the table, and peeked at her through one open eye. "What do you mean?"

"In _Hogwarts, A History_, there's information about the chamber."

"You um...read?" Daphne asked, astounded.

Sheila was affronted by the question. "Of course I do! That's how I know about the chamber in the first place!"

Callista was struck by a sudden thought. "Sheila, doesn't the match between Gryffindor and Slytherin start in thirty minutes?"

"Crap, I totally forgot! Sorry guys, can't hang out, I'll see you all later! Be sure to watch how perfectly awesome I am!" Grinning brightly one last time, she sprinted her way out of the library, disregarding the angry shouts from Madam Pince.

Surveying the spot where Sheila had vanished, Harry transferred his attention to Callista. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Patience, Potter..." Daphne retorted mildly.

"Trust me, Daphne. The last thing I need is patience. I expended a large and pointless amount of time searching for this bollocks when I could just have asked you girls about it." Harry breathed in and out, struggling to cool his fiery temper. The two girls exchanged looks before emitting chuckles simultaneously. Harry exhaled his breath noisily, irritation building up.

"Now, now, calm down, Harry." Callista patted his hand. "Alright then, we'll tell you. As you know, this school - no, castle - was built by four great individuals, they are the founders. That age, it was-"

"Yes, yes, I know," Harry disrupted her impatiently. "They built it for a reason. They wished to avoid the Muggles snooping on them. Magic was feared by common folk at that time, villagers, commoners, politicians, and even great warriors. Wizards and witches were hiding their true nature from the world because of it. Those who were known to the world endured the persecution and no one came to aid them. One of the reasons was that the magical folk were clearly outnumbered by the Muggles. Constructing this castle also made the founders able to use magic freely without fear of a person seeing them performing it."

"Yes," Callista muttered, undoubtedly aggravated at his interruption. "Historical sources tells us that much. It was said that the founders worked in harmony with one another, developing a bond, a close friendship if you may. In that few years, they sought out youngsters who displayed any signs of magic, bringing them in, properly instructing them how to employ magic and perhaps, even care for them."

"But then…" Daphne continued. She had grabbed some book on the table that caught her eye and skimmed through it. "…A disagreement ensued. This was at first struck between Gryffindor and Slytherin before the other two founders participated in the dispute. For whatever reasons it might be, Slytherin wished the students to be more _selective_. He believed magical learning should stay with magical families only. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, deeming them as untrustworthy. A rift started to expand among Slytherin and the others. After a while, Slytherin fought with Gryffindor in a major argument and Slytherin left the school."

"Some part of what you said isn't true," Harry dissented.

"Oh?" Daphne turned away from the book she was occupied. "And what's that, Potter?"

"I don't see any mistake in what Daphne has just said, Harry," Callista supported.

"Look," Harry said. "Slytherin might not have wished to take the Muggleborns into the school, but it was not out of dislike. He did it out of protection."

"Protection?" was the incredulous response from Daphne. Callista was hushed, understanding it was meaningless for her to argue. In all the years she was by Harry's side, he never failed to bicker with her in issues concerning the history of the Wizarding world. He had never believed most of what was written in the textbooks and every time he narrated a specific story, it had always made sense to her. Daphne, however, was another matter. "Potter, are you out of your bloody mind? What in Merlin's name makes you say that?"

"Think about it. That era was a time in which magic was feared across the land, and those who identified as witches or wizards suffered greatly at the hand of Muggles. I know this information isn't authentic enough for you, but I know for a fact in that age some Muggles hunted the magical people and burned them down. The Muggles thought that anything out of the ordinary should only be in the hands of God and not us. The existence of the magical folks contradicted their beliefs. I don't know, maybe Slytherin didn't want the Muggleborns to go through such an experience and die at a young age. He concluded that it was best for them to stay hidden. If magic was feared by the people, just think of how the Muggleborns' parents would react. Who's to say they wouldn't offer their children to the villagers to be _purified_?"

"I don't think any parents would do that, Harry..." Callista was plainly disturbed, appalled.

"No, what Potter said is a definite possibility. It's no surprise, either." Her book now lay untouched as Daphne rounded Callista. "What Potter was trying to say is in that period, anything could happen and it depended on certain people. I'm sure there have been some cases where Muggleborns have been strung up and scorched to death. It's just they never mentioned it in any sources. You never know and that's what history means. While we learn the past, it still remains a huge mystery to us."

Harry nodded his head, pleased. "So I take it, Salazar constructed this hidden chamber in order to purge the school, and until his _heir_ arrives, the chamber is sealed," Harry stated lightheartedly. His small smile dropped. "Serious?" The girls looked at him calculatingly, bewildered at how he addressed the founder so admiringly.

"That's what the story tells us, Harry. Deep in the chamber lies a horror within… some sort of monster, they say," Callista asserted.

"What's this 'monster', then?"

"That's it. Nobody knows, Potter."

"You're kidding me?"

Daphne shrugged, unperturbed. "The previous headmaster and headmistress conducted a full investigation, but they didn't find a single clue to its location. The lack of information about the chamber was surely the reason this 'monster' became more mysterious."

Harry was in deep thought. The chamber did exist somewhere in the castle, he just knew it. His instincts roared in affirmation, and he frequently trusted his gut feelings. But that was all he had to go on. It was like this chamber didn't exist. He tried to detect any large amounts of magic circulating around the castle, but the results were still the same, minus the Philosopher Stone. Harry pulled his attention back to the girls, growing concerned at Callista's troubled look. "Callista, are you feeling well?"

"It's just… the writings on the wall imprinted in my mind. 'Enemies of the heir', it's likely meant for the Muggleborns..."

"Or half-bloods," Harry pointed out. "Don't fret over it too much. Look, if Salazar did create this chamber, I don't think he meant to use it for erasing the Muggleborns. I firmly believe it was meant for another reason. We're talking about an event that transpired a thousand years ago. People could easily twist the story as time passed by. The British Wizarding World is full of prejudice, after all." He rubbed her back tenderly to soothe her. "And don't worry, you have me. You know I'll protect you girls from any threats with my life."

Daphne wordlessly grasped a hold of her friend's hand and stroked it to comfort her, nodding slightly. Callista smiled weakly at her friends' efforts.

"Anyway, where's Regine? I haven't seen her that much lately," Harry enquired.

"She's by the greenhouse, busying herself with the plants," Daphne answered accordingly.

"Again?" He was exasperated.

"It's understandable, Harry," Callista said. "She's upset about what happened to Mrs. Norris. She had gotten to know the cat quite well."

"Still." Harry pursed his lips in disapproval. "She spends too much time in the greenhouse… I'll get her. I'll meet you two by the field."

No words were needed as Harry rose up from his seat. Abruptly, he strode off to the location of the greenhouses. It took him a little while to arrive. All the way, he escaped from his annoying fans by hiding from one place to another. He was beginning to think that joining the Professional Quidditch Club was a very terrible idea. True, he enjoyed the fame from time to time, but mostly it just irked him. He didn't even have to go inside the greenhouse to seek out his friend as she was just exiting the area. Her scarlet slight wavy hair was fastened into a tight ponytail.

"Regine."

Her back stiffened edgily and she spun around. "Harry," she breathed.

He cocked an eyebrow at this reaction. "You've been jumpy and tense all week. Is something the matter?"

"N-no, it's nothing!"

"Regine," he admonished in a soft tone. "You're not good at lying, you know that."

"Harry, if I said it was nothing, then it's nothing!" She was stubborn and her golden eyes darted to his emeralds. "I'm fine!"

"Well, shall we check that? You haven't been eating and sleeping well. You can't focus in lessons anymore. You've been condemning yourself to a life of solitude in the greenhouse. You don't visit the Owlery anymore. We barely see each other during the day and you've been quiet this week. Too quiet." Harry gazed her worriedly. "I know the situation with Mrs. Norris affected you deeply but you can share everything with me and the girls, Regine. I dislike seeing you so…lost… You can trust me. I'll help you with anything."

"I…I'm sorry…" Her eyes softened as she cast her gaze downwards. "It's just… I uh…"

"It's fine…" She looked up and her cheeks heated at an alarming speed. Harry had shortened the distance between them. He smiled a little. "I ought to know that you won't say anything until you're ready. Whatever it is, tell me when you feel like sharing, okay? Just remember that the girls and I are here for you." She nodded her head dumbly, entranced by the color of his eyes. Before she slipped out of her daze, her hair was pulled out of the ponytail and back to its usual style. "There," Harry declared, nonchalantly smoothing it down with his fingers. "I like your hair this way. It suits you and you're much more beautiful like this." Her cheeks flamed up a notch. "Regine, are you coming?"

She snapped back to reality and noticed that Harry had already walked up ahead of her. "Y-yes." With a slight stammer, she scuttled to his side and together they strolled their way to the Quidditch field to reunite with their friends.

* * *

><p>Harry studied the faces of his teammates.<p>

At the front of the group stood Callista and Li. By his side was Aiden, given that she was his second. The team had been training under his instruction for two months and they had done well. He might have exaggerated the training a little bit, but it was for their own good. Of course, what Harry meant by _a little bit _included in yelling them to work harder, angrily ordering them to sprint around the field before and after the practice, and pushing them to the point of absolute exhaustion. To be fair, he had participated every training regimen they undertook to drive the team's motivation. The members of Ravenclaw team came to learn that their captain was fair, honest, caring, professional, and very strict. For that precise reason, their respect for him transformed into a new whole level.

Amongst all of the team, he was shocked to discover that Li had quite endurance in her. Because of that, he felt compelled to provide her with an extra training in order for her to become the excellent Seeker she had the potential to be. Satisfaction surged throughout his body at knowing that Davies was no longer part of the team. At first he was, but after not sticking to Harry's effective but unorthodox way of managing the team, Harry had no choice but to kick him out and held another trial session for a Chaser. Harry was reasonable enough to give the guy a chance, willing to put aside his personal feelings, but Davies threw away the opportunity.

"Listen up," Harry spoke. He stuffed both of his hands in his trouser's pockets. The fierce wind grazed all of them, ruffling their attire violently. Harry was composed and collected, impassive to the wind's assaults. He deduced that there would be rain later on. "This is the first match of the year. The game will begin in fifteen minutes or so. I assembled you all for a reason. What I want you all to do is monitor how Gryffindor plays."

"But captain-" spoke one of Harry's roommates, Frank Birke, a reserve Keeper. "What about the Slytherin? Should we just cast Disillusionment Charm on them? You know, captain. I think that way, I could focus more."

There were chuckles and Harry had to repress a smile. Ever since two of his roommates became a part of the team, Harry's relationship with them had greatly improved. Back then, they had unspoken agreement to not bother each other and never get in the way. Frank Birke and Jason Spum were now on healthier terms with him. In the last month, they had been gracious to him and bold enough to tease him in their shared dorm room. They did it like any casual friends would. He also noted that his two roommates loved to joke around, much to his annoyance.

"Well… I guess you all have to watch them as well, just save more of your concentration more for Gryffindor. I'm not too worried about the Slytherins. Their best bet is simply the new brooms." Harry put on a pensive look. "But as much as I hate to admit it, we don't stand a chance against the Gryffindor team without our previous captain, Jeffery Barkain. Their team is likely the strongest in Hogwarts. With Wood as their Keeper - Jonnet, Spinnet and Johnson as their Chasers - the Weasley twins as the Beaters and my brother as the Seeker, I doubt we can win against them…"

Harry dismissed their astonished expressions. "Don't give me those looks, its true and you know it. I maybe a professional Chaser but we're talking one man against a team here. I'm striving to build a stronger team, and not just me…it's comprised of you all. Besides, it's best to play as a team than just a one man team, right?" They all chorused their positive answers. "And I realized that's what I've been doing, so no matter what, we'll play as a team. The only reason we won against Gryffindor all this time was because of our capta-" Harry shook his head. "I mean Barkain. It's true I can score many times without a problem but that doesn't change the fact that my brother is a damn good Seeker. Without Barkain's talent to delay the opponent Seeker, giving us as much time as we needed, they could just finish off the game by catching the Snitch. No offense to you two, but there's no denying that my brother's skill on a broom and as a Seeker has far exceed you two. Trust me, all Potters are naturals." Li and Chang bobbed their heads.

"Li, you're agile, sharp, and good but not good enough. Chang, you're fast on a broom and flexible, but your Comet won't hold a candle to my brother's Nimbus 2000, and you still have a long way to go. Even with both of your combined skills, it still won't give us advantage…" Harry was contemplative for a moment. "What's more, their skills should be improved compared to last year. Wood is the Tyrannical Quidditch Junkie and he's determined to beat us this year. I bet he trained his team to the brink of death."

They repressed a shudder at this. They all thought Harry was the one who was training them 'till they were on the verge of passing on to the afterlife.

Harry whistled to acquire their attention amongst their murmurs. "So I've been thinking, and this is what I have in mind. I'm quite aware that in the Hogwarts Quidditch tournament, there was never once a team that fully exploited their timeouts. In professional, we applied it for substitution or to regain the momentum. You'll find out that in each game, a team has been given five timeouts, and I had a talk about this with Madam Hooch. Generally, it's decided by the team's coach, but in our cases, it will be the captain. Now, there's a reason why I deliberately agreed to two more players and I sometimes trained you all separately as two teams. While the other teams will take reserve players to swap for injuries, I won't."

This sincerely caught their attention. "In Quidditch, substitution has no limit. You can swap players, and then you can change back to the previous ones. Again, I already discussed this with Madam Hooch and she agreed. As I mentioned before, I won't score many points in each game, and that will be a problem to the team. But I want to give you guys more chances to play so I'll just support the team by stealing and passing. Since we're not strong yet, we'll utilize the timeout opportunity. Now, in the other team, they only took one Chaser and one Beater. As you all know, we have two Chasers and two Beaters. Can someone tell me the difference?"

A sixth year reserve Chaser, Margaret Barton, raised her hand. "Just like you said, you wanted two sets of teams. No… more like you wanted to change our pace in the middle of the game."

Callista beamed. "With this kind of formation, we can confuse the opposing team. If they able to figure our style of play, we'll replace the rhythm with the second set. It will be extremely effective!"

"And if they come to understand that rhythm, we'll throw the previous players back into the game." A sly smile spread across Li's lips.

"We're not only confusing them, but in an attempt to explode their heads," Shannon concluded.

"So, not only we're assaulting them physically but mentally as well…I like it…" mused Jason Spum, another of Harry's roommates.

They all grinned creepily at this, a trait they all had taken from Harry.

"Exactly, and we all know with this type of performance, only the best mind will win in the end. We'll force them to take part in Ravenclaw's game instead. I'm positive that Wood and the other captains won't know what hit them. They only concentrate on the strong players, and that's their weakness. They forget that by the end of the game, every member of each team have a hand in the outcome, and each on is a brilliant player." Harry smirked. "Once I request for timeout, all of the current players on the field, with the exception of me, will be substituted. Not only this will puzzle them but it will slow them down. As far as I'm concerned, people can't adapt to unfamiliar situations quickly enough, and we'll exploit their dilemma. This way, we won't fall behind, and if we do, we still have me as emergency backup. I'll catch us up in terms of points."

"Um…" Chang lifted her hand shyly. "What if they figure out how we all play and then prepare for it in the next game?"

"Good question, Chang," Harry smiled roguishly. "Well just toss in the third, fourth and fifth set of the team."

Now they were confounded with Harry's words. "For instance, we can just substitute one Chaser, one Beater and one Keeper…or perhaps, instead of substituting a Keeper, a Seeker. Or we can mix the first team Chasers with the second team, and the same goes for the Beaters. We'll do it until they go bonkers. Why do you think I didn't stick to just perfecting the main team? I intentionally let you all familiarize and get into synch with each other. We have five chances, so we'll use those opportunities. If they see this, they'll waste time trying to understand how we actually play. Since we're all comfortable with all of our plays and techniques, I don't think we have to worry about how the immediate changes affect us. You all have worked hard, after all. We've even trained by the lake if the field has been occupied by the other teams. So long as we have me on the field, then no worries - I'll guide you all."

"Um, captain, I have one more question. Are you sure you're not in Slytherin?" Frank queried.

Harry waved off the question, purposely not answering it. "However, just for precautions, we'll only go into this plan against Gryffindor if we are in tight spot. To be honest, it's quite risky even though there are high chances we can conquer the game swiftly. The second team will only be used as a spare against the other teams. It will be a surprise, so it's best the second team keeps their skills a secret. The first team will be the only team competing for now. But the Seeker will be different for every house. Li, when we're up against Hufflepuff, you'll engage Diggory. He's just as sharp as you are and quick to react, so you're the best candidate to handle him." He shifted his attention to his other Seeker. "You, my dear, will handle Malfoy."

"A-Are you sure?"

"Yes. This will be good practice for you if, by fate, you come face-to-face with my brother. It will be like preparing you for much tougher opponent. Can you do this, Chang?" She nodded her head, and determination shone on Harry's face. "Malfoy has next to no talent...though maybe some degree of skills, so observe him closely. I'll cover your back if he ever tries anything on you."

"Alright, I want you all to focus on what you're supposed to do. Is that understood?" They all nodded their head. Harry brought out his wand, brandishing it up and down, cancelling the privacy charm. "Good, then this meeting is adjourned, and tomorrow I want all of you to wake up early and be at the field by half past five, sharp. We'll train for two hours before lessons start."

All the members groaned loudly at their captain's order, including Callista. She had not once complained anything to Harry before, but after she took the role of the team's Chaser, she continually whined about how strict and harsh Harry was. But their extensive and vigorous training from Harry did prove to be quite constructive, as they all improved significantly in both fitness level and skill. Callista confessed that her progress was advancing more with Harry than with Sheila.

"Quit whining, I woke up much earlier than you all did," Harry scowled. "And you don't see me complaining, do you?"

They all traded doubtful and bored looks with each other, quirking an eyebrow at their captain's words. They rolled their eyes concurrently. Harry was constantly moaning about waking up early in the morning. He even went as far as to call himself stupid for distributing such an order. Gnashing his teeth at their reaction, Harry roared petulantly. "Ten laps around the field tomorrow morning!" And of course, he would take it out on them.


	15. Chapter 14, Season 2

**Chapter 14.**

**8 November 1992.**

That very early morning, Daniel Potter was aggravated, though part of him was relieved that Gryffindor had won yesterday's match. However, the victory didn't amend the fact that he'd landed himself in the infirmary without a bone in his arm and was in the process of growing a new one. It was a painful procedure. He had lost his bones all because of that fraud. Harry was right, the man was a fake. Lockhart had been doing nothing but converting his life at Hogwarts into a miserable one. And now, after he had caught the Snitch, Lockhart had cast a spell onto his arm that wholly evaporated the bones inside it.

Oh, he had almost forgotten that blasted elf, Dobby. That elf was the real reason he was in here in the first place.

Dobby told him everything - more like unconsciously divulging the secrets - the elf was the one who had sealed the barrier and tampered with the Bludger. Apparently Dobby did it all to save him. Daniel was even more frustrated after hearing all of that from the elf. If it weren't for his arm, he would strangle Dobby to death! How could anyone save a person by hurting them? The elf did let slip out that the Chamber of Secrets exist. In the middle of their banter, the elf was suddenly frozen and hovered in the air. Daniel was shocked at this abruptness whilst Dobby squeaked fearfully. He thrashed aggressively in mid-air, desperate to break free from whatever was retaining him. It gave the impression that Dobby was trapped in an invisible sphere.

"Now, now," someone grunted. "No need to struggle. You're actually making this harder for me."

Daniel's heart leapt at the familiar tone, but a tiny part of him squirmed in anxious. He hadn't talked with his brother for two whole months and Daniel dearly hoped he wouldn't get scolded. The only time his brother wished to talk to him was when Daniel was to be reprimanded. But he had been drastically improving his studies, which earned Hermione's approval and admiration. Nevertheless, his other best friend complained at his unexpected transformation in taking his schoolwork more seriously. Ron thought Daniel's study habits last year were bad enough, but this year was a hundred times worse. Something had encouraged Daniel and Ron never fathomed what stimulated his best mate into such a state.

Dobby squeaked more, decanting more magic to disentangle himself from the 'cage'. Harry briskly sauntered over to his brother's bed, his face contorted in pure concentration, both of his hands aiming at Dobby, trembling slightly.

"I told you to quit struggling, elf…or would you prefer of I ensnared you in a more painful method?" he rumbled, getting more and more vexed by the minute. Harry had to admit the little elf put up quite the fight and he had to pour more magic into the containment. "That's. It."

"W-wait, don't hurt him!" Daniel exclaimed.

"_Cornior!_" A flash of purple light struck the elf. Dobby straightened firmly in a rigid pose. His eyes widened in horrorstruck as he commanded his body that wouldn't budge an inch. He wriggled more and more, still the results were the same. "Don't worry, elf. I just put you in a binding spell. Think of it like your body has been tied by a rope. You're stuck like that unless I release you from the spell." Seeing his brother's confused looks, Harry explained some more, "It's a spell from our mansion library. It's much like the Body-Bind Curse, _Petrificus Totalus_, just in a different form. This spell enables the victim to talk and move their head."

"Anyway…" Harry smirked, conjuring a seat wandlessly. "I heard everything."

If possible, Dobby's eyes popped more. "No, no, no, no one must know! Dobby shouldn't have told anyone! Dobby should have checked to see if anyone was around! Bad Dobby! Bad!" The elf wailed as tears trickled down his ugly face, the picture of pathetic helplessness.

"Silence, elf," Harry with inhumanly cold voice echoed, causing shivers to run down Daniel's spine. Dobby spontaneously locked his mouth into a stiff seal, his tears ceasing, obeying Harry without hesitation. It was as if Harry was Dobby's own master. "So brat, I guess you've been telling me the truth."

Daniel shook his head at the current circumstances and scowled irritably in his brother's direction. "Of course I did. Why would I lie?"

"So the chamber has been opened before, has it?" Dobby squeaked more quietly, distraughtly holding back the tears that burned his eyes. "This chamber is just getting more enigmatic." Harry sighed, leaning deeper into the comfortable chair he conjured. "Tell me, when did he start bothering you, brat?"

"Um…last summer…"

"Oh?" Harry raised his eyebrow in mild surprise. A faint smile coiled his lips as he relocated his interest to the elf. "So, you're the elf that I've occasionally been sensing in one of my meditations. I was most curious of the peculiar magical core that appeared in the mansion during the summer…"

Daniel didn't bother to inquire further as he spoke, "He's been warning me about the danger in Hogwarts, and as it turns out it was the Chamber of Secrets. He really wanted me to go back home and away from Hogwarts, saying it was too dangerous to be here. If many lives are at stake, there is no way I could just ship off like a coward."

"Foolish," Harry said without looking at his brother. "But well-spoken."

Daniel blinked his eyes staggeringly. That was the first compliment his brother had ever directed to him!

"So… if this elf is the one who notified you, then somehow his master is related to all of this." Dobby couldn't hold back his tears this time.

"You're right!" Daniel cried out. "But the real question, who is his master?"

"How should I know, brat?"

"Of course you wouldn't know, nobody would, save for Dobby revealing his master and vice versa," Daniel mumbled quietly.

"What was that, brat?" Harry's face was more or less frightening.

"I said, of course you wouldn't know, nobody-" At the casual remark, a knuckle whacked his head, not too strongly. "Ouch!"

"You're supposed to say 'nothing' in a fearful tone, brat, not repeating your words." Harry's eyes twitched in irritation. "Next time, pay more attention to your surroundings."

Sulking, Daniel rubbed his head furiously. "So what should we do with him? Should we interrogate him, Harry?"

"Harry!" This jolted the two brothers. "Harry Potter?"

Dobby fixed his eyes on Harry in wonder. He was awed after fully sweeping his eyes all over Harry's form. Harry felt a creepy chill swell inside him. "Goblins have talked about you, sir. They have said many things! Many, many things about you, Harry Potter, sir. They spoke highly of you. Yes, so highly! They said you are a direct descendant of your great ancestor, the first of your blood! They said you are the _heir_," Dobby jabbered breathlessly, his long bat ears flapping excitedly.

"W-what heir?"

"Elf, that's enough," Harry hissed viciously. "Never, ever, speak of me again, you understand? You'll be the death of me!"

Dobby quivered uneasily. "Dobby is sorry, great Harry Potter, sir. Dobby does not wish to harm you. No, Dobby does not. Dobby is just excited to meet you, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby swears on our kind that Dobby will not tell anyone, including his master."

Gruffly, Harry whirled his head to his brother. "And you. Forget what he just said. First of all, I don't know what the elf meant by _heir_. Second, I don't even know who our great ancestor is, the first of our kin. Third, this is something that doesn't concern you at all, and you shouldn't be forcing your way into this. Just focus on your own destiny, facing Voldemort. Since the spell that I cast last year is still in effect, I'm certain no one will get any information on me from you. And don't ever question me concerning it ever again, or try to uncover any information from anyone. Do you understand?"

Daniel shakily nodded. Whatever it was that riled his brother, it was best that he didn't get truly involved.

Harry growled, grumpily crossing his arms over his chest. It was true he didn't have any clue what the elf had just spoken of. An heir? What heir?

And who was their ancestor? The elf had just disclosed that he was the direct descendant. Why hadn't he been informed by the old man? Surely he should have been informed of an issue such as this, especially one in which he was so greatly connected. Harry shook his head, emptying his mind. No, the old man must have his own reasons and Harry trusted his decisions. Splintering his thoughts into pieces, he glanced over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes. He stood up anxiously and banished the chair.

He snapped his fingers and Dobby was released from the spell. "Listen elf, you do not need to save my brother anymore. As long as I'm here, he'll be fine. So for now, be gone. Your presence here only endangers our lives." Dobby nodded his head frantically and there was a loud crack as he vanished.

"Brat, pretend to sleep. Someone is coming," was Harry's only brisk command. "_Effingo abl invisibilium_."

With that strange incantation, Daniel was momentarily flabbergasted as his brother appeared to no longer be in the room. "Do you want me to knock you out with my fist?" The angry hiss penetrated the silent atmosphere.

Daniel slumped to his bed. The sound of footsteps drew nearer and Dumbledore swept into view. He was carrying one end of what looked like a statue. McGonagall soon followed, carrying its feet. For many minutes, both brothers surveyed the scene with rapt attention as the professors discussed Colin Creevey's petrifaction. The curtain of the boy's bed now secured from prying eyes and the brothers had no prospect of finding out more.

"Harry..." Daniel whispered warily.

"You can talk normally, brat. I cast a silencing charm around us," was the response from his invisible brother. "Do you...know him?"

"Yeah, he's annoying but he's a good kid." Daniel smiled sadly. "He really didn't deserve that."

"This chamber is going to get out of hand soon enough..." Harry muttered. "The true question of what the professors are looking for is not _who_ or _how_... it's _what_..."

Daniel sucked in his breath. "You don't mean..."

"Something inside the chamber is what petrified a cat and now a boy. That _horror _isn't just some normal monster we see or hear in every day of our life... We're up against something we have not heard of in many years, likely something that existed in the age of the founders..." Daniel gulped at this. "And I'm going to find out what it is..."

"Mr. Potter!" Madam Pomfrey shrill voice resonated in the infirmary. "You have been awake this whole time?"

Daniel paled. Bead of sweats formed on his forehead, streaming down his cheeks as the now furious matron was joined by his equally enraged head of house. For the longest minute of his life, he had to endure two witches berating him. It concluded in McGonagall punishing him with five days of detention for poking his nose in an important conversation that was intended to be kept private. Pomfrey also criticized that he shouldn't whisper to himself because it would make him look like a crazy person. This just made him more suspicious than ever. Didn't Harry encircle his bed with silencing charm?

Sighing miserably, he plopped his head onto the pillow, his gaze trailing up to the ceiling. He started to notice traces of floating words up above. Narrowing his eyes, he strived to get a better view. The ghostly writing formed into sentences as if it were a message for him. It stated: _Actually, brat, I forgot to put a silencing charm around us. It must have slipped my mind…or maybe the real reason is just that I can't pass up an opportunity to get you in trouble. Even I take pleasure in a good prank. I am a Potter after all. We are natural in something like this. Well, enjoy your break with McGonagall, I'm sure it's going to be wonderful. Farewell for now._

Daniel didn't resist groaning out loud wherein it led to another long minute of lectures. He swore he heard his brother cackle evilly from outside of the infirmary. Daniel withdrew his earlier words. He was hundred times more frustrated with his brother than Dobby and Lockhart. Harry is more resolved on bending his life into a living hell. His last thought before he drifted off to sleep was that Harry was a true spawn of the devil.

* * *

><p><strong>17 December 1992.<strong>

Dinner that night was already over. The customary long dining tables that students used were now gone and had been replaced with a magnificent golden stage along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. Excitement seemed to be evident on each of the students' faces and they all clutched their wands in anticipation.

"Can't we just leave?" Harry groused. "I'm full..." The girls rolled their eyes at his predictable behavior. "Why do we have to attend this Dueling Club? It's not like we're obligated to join, right? Besides, we don't need this. Our occasional combat training in the Forbidden Forest was far better than this is going to be. Plus, if a colossal monster decides to fight us, it will smash us to bits, not using spells or any dark arts. This is stupid. I'm leaving without you girls."

"Harry..." Callista pleaded. "We've gone through this already. Perhaps we'll learn something from this newly formed club, you never know."

Harry scoffed. "Please, what's there to learn with Lockhart in charge of it? But fine, I'll stay…"

"You don't know that, Harry." Regine was uncertain. "I was hoping for Professor Flitwick. He was a dueling champion in his young age. Or Professor McGonagall, she's one of those who fought in the first war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Or even better, Professor Dumbledore. We might get more than just a glimpse of how a powerful wizard duels."

"I wonder how he won so many duels with his small size..." Sheila pondered. "Professor Flitwick, I mean."

"Jonnet, when it comes to battle, size doesn't matter. You of all people should know that," Daphne snorted. A sly smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "Or have you forgotten all the steps we learned from each other in how to win a duel? If so, then I don't blame you at all. Do you want me to write those down for you so you won't forget?"

Sheila's face flushed in fury and she glowered furiously the gorgeous blond girl.

"Oh, that's it..." Sheila growled. "You and me, snake! On the stage, right now! I'll kick your arse!"

Daphne's smirk extended and the looks she threw at Sheila was challenging enough. "Bring it on, Jonnet, and it is I who will kick your arse. Trust me, it's a certainty."

"Is that a threat? Careful now, we don't want accidents to befall on our sweet princess." Sheila bowed disparagingly.

"Don't call me _Princess_," Daphne snarled, hardening her gaze. "And I am not sweet!"

Everyone knew just how much Daphne abhorred her title as the Ice Princess of Slytherin. She just didn't like the implications of the word 'princess.' To her, that moniker proved that she couldn't be independent, can be delicate and fragile, constantly having to be reliant on someone else, even though her personality and actions screamed otherwise. The contradiction irritated her.

"Oh, did I hit a nerve, Daph?"

"Not even close, Jonnet."

Two furious glares collided fiercely, both girls not deferring their stance. "Okay, that's enough. Time out, both of you." Regine stepped in the middle of them, worried that the situation would escalate into a huge fight. "No fighting, remember?" The two girls childishly harrumphed, but bobbed their heads in assent. "Good, now shake hands." As both didn't desire to sadden Regine, they shook their hands reluctantly. It still elicited a smile from the redhead. "And what do you say?" They each murmured their apology softly to each other.

"They have an interesting friendship, don't they?" Callista smiled widely.

"What kind of best mates are they?" Harry marveled, half lidded eyes lazily glued to them.

"I'd say it's quite the love-hate friendship."

Gilderoy Lockhart strutted onto the stage with an air of mighty confidence, accompanied by Snape. The girls' faces visibly fell at this.

"What did I tell you? Lockhart just won't pass up the thought of obtaining more fame." Harry grimaced. They were at the very front of the crowds and the position Lockhart intended to go was right near them.

"Okay, okay, you were right all along…" Callista grumbled. Then her eyes twinkled impishly and a sinister grin materialized across her lips. "Girls, how about we have some fun? It's been a long time since we played our little game."

They all reciprocated Callista's grin and their eyes glinted maniacally. Harry swallowed unconsciously, glad their attention was not on him. They were eyeing Lockhart as if they were predators that had located their prey. If they were looking at Harry like that, his legs would have moved as fast as they could, just so he could get as far away from them as possible.

"Who wants to go first, then?" Regine offered, wand twirling idly in her hand. The other girls had casually brought out their own wands.

"I'll go!" Sheila volunteered enthusiastically.

"All right, Jonnet, show us what you got."

"Remember, the rule is that you have to stay hidden and no one must know you're the culprit." Callista harked back to memories of previous games. "If you've been discovered, you'll be specifically disqualified and lose. Whoever gets the most reaction from the crowds - without being found out - wins."

Sheila glanced to her left, then her right. Seeing that no one was concentrated on her, she furtively pointed her wand to the floor of the stage where Lockhart was about to step. She muttered an incantation under her breath. As one of Lockhart's legs contacted the floor, he slipped forward and fell flat on the ground, face first. His wide shiny smile turned to a yelp of surprise just before the impact. Lockhart instantly recovered from the embarrassment as well as the pain, and pretended as if nothing had happened. He grinned, displaying his shiny white teeth. But thanks to Sheila's trick, a few of his teeth had gone missing. The hall was completely silent before everyone exploded into full blown laughter.

The girls guffawed at this while Harry was frozen solid. Was this their game? Humiliate Lockhart?

"All right, you're next Regine!" Sheila chose, grinning.

Without wasting time, Lockhart unhooked the strings that tied his cloak around his neck. His few fans gathered and shoved each other in an attempt to catch his expensive plum red cloak when would be thrown into the audience. Regine whisked her wand through the air, and without Lockhart being aware, the strings lengthened, reaching for Lockhart's throat before reattaching back together around his neck. She purposely fortified the strings as well. When Lockhart threw his cloak to his fans, he yelped in a girlish tone when the strings strangled him. Regine muttered another spell.

All of the sudden, Lockhart was yanked off of the platform by his cloak, which was still in the air, and his body keeled backwards. Quite a few students parted for his inevitable crash. They then hovered over his fallen form and blatantly laughed in his face. No one could resist joining in. Hastily rising up to his two feet, Lockhart climbed up onto the platform once more. After trying in vain to untie the strings, he simply decided to wear the cloak, not willing to endure a repeat of previous events. At the same time, he cleared his throat professionally, which drew more hilarity from the crowds.

"How was that?" Regine winked playfully at her laughing friends. "Daphne, your turn."

Daphne waited patiently for Lockhart to finish straightening his cloak. Once it was perfect, Lockhart had it billow out behind him dramatically. Seeing this, Daphne pointed her wand straight at the plum fabric and murmured a spell. Instead of the cloak reverting back its position of hanging loosely behind Lockhart, it shrouded him completely. His face and body were fully enveloped by the cloak. Lockhart's muffled shriek could be heard as he dashed around the platform in panic. Daphne sent a tripping hex and Lockhart collapsed to the ground yet again. The next thing everyone knew was that his cloak had touched a candle, igniting a fire on his head. Lockhart screamed more and rolled over the floor of the platform to extinguish the fire.

The people who finished laughing at the previous incident erupted in mirth at the hilarious sight. After the fire had been extinguished, the man sat upright, still blinded by his cloak. Tendrils of smoke curled out from the hair atop his head. Struggling to escape his cloak, he finally succeeded, breathing heavily. People stopped laughing and blinked at the man in shock. Lockhart's hair was smoldering, slicked up from the fire, and he had nearly lost both of his eyebrows. There were black spots on his cheeks and forehead. The laughter swelled louder than ever before at the sight that greeted the audience.

"I can't believe he's still going. He doesn't know when to give up, does he? That guy is persistent." Harry was incredulous. Wiping his face with the sleeves of his clothes, Lockhart stood up and positioned himself, still holding an air of confidence. "At least do something with his now embarrassing looks. There are number of spells that will help him."

"Forget him, Potter." Daphne crossed her arms over her chest. She then looked over to her brilliant friend. "It's your turn now, Callista."

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called out shakily, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!"

After that, he continued to babble away. Callista secretly waved her wand three times, inserting a few complex spells on Lockhart. An eerie silence conquered the hall as the crowd began to take notice of Lockhart's vocal incoherency. They could not understand a word he said. Somehow, his voice had been converted to the sound of a donkey and he just went on with his speech, oblivious to the fact that he was spouting brays and hee-haws instead of intelligible phrases. He continued on, gesturing his arm to Professor Snape and then back at himself.

Lockhart suddenly burst into jovial laughter, and though the crowd anticipated a donkey's laugh, this time, the snort of a pig emerged. The deep grunt sounded absolutely ridiculous coming out of Lockhart's perfect mouth and this time, the crowd didn't attempt to contain any of their laughter. Some of the students even fell to their knees, clasping their stomachs as they howled loudly in mirth. Snape was obviously struggling to not participate in the laughter, desperately reinforcing his _Occulumency _and looking around for any means of distraction. Lockhart looked very puzzled at their reactions. Was it something he said?

Callista grinned. "The first spell was for switching his voice to the sound of a donkey, the second one was for changing his laughter into the sound of a pig, and the last allowed him to remain oblivious to the alterations. It's a complex charm. I still can't get it right on the voice, though and the effect only lasts for five minutes and is not permanent."

"Oh sweet Merlin, that's brilliant!" Sheila choked out from amidst her uncontrollable laughter. "This is the best club I have ever attended!"

"I - I agree!" Regine spluttered through her laughter. "Maybe we- we should sign up as members!"

Daphne was laughing freely now, tears in her eyes from her friend's last comment and from the ill-fated chaos that had befallen Lockhart. She was balancing herself against Harry. He was laughing while at the same time carefully holding Daphne so she would not collapse in a heap of uncontrollable laughter. For once, he pitied Lockhart. This just proved how dangerous the girls were and that they should never, ever be messed with.

"I guess the winner is clear then." Callista beamed with twinkles of mischief dancing in her eyes.

* * *

><p>True to Callista earlier words, Lockhart's voice soon returned to normal, much to the disappointment of the student crowd, namely the Weasley twins. After a few minutes, all occupants in the hall had recovered from their laughter, though there were still chuckles and sniggers ringing out once in a while. Lockhart was still perplexed as to why they acted in such manner, but chose not to comment and went back to his speech. Now all focus was on the stage as both professors readied themselves to duel each other. Of course, the duel concluded in a one-sided victory as Lockhart was blasted off his feet by Snape.<p>

"How pathetic can this guy get?"

"No skill," Sheila said, not amused by the performance at all.

"No talent," Regine added blankly.

"No honor," Callista grumbled, her lips puckered in dissatisfaction.

"And no conscience," Daphne announced in an annoyed tone.

"Very pathetic," the four girls chorused, nodding their heads at the same time.

"You know, sometimes, you girls give me the creeps…"

Lockhart quickly yet unsteadily got to his feet. He tottered his way to the platform on shaky legs. Not wishing to mortify himself any further, he created up an excuse that they wouldn't learn anything without practice, and he promptly paired them all up. Harry and the girls remained impassive, unmoving from their spot, opting to just observe. When Lockhart endeavored to pair them, he retreated hastily from the girls' murderous glares. Harry only tittered nervously and cautioned Lockhart that they weren't in the best mood. The reason was more than enough for him.

Instead of paying attention to the crowds, Harry looked up at the stage. His brother had purposely been picked by Snape to duel with Malfoy. Harry smirked conceitedly. Snape and Malfoy were in for a surprise. Before the summer's end, Harry accidentally discovered one of his brother's deepest secrets. Daniel had been practicing dueling by himself in the basement of the Potter Mansion. The basement was the only place in the Potter's house that was warded, so there could be no detection of underage magic.

Harry had been shocked - and a little amazed - by this revelation upon his trip down to the basement. Nobody else knew this was happening, not his parents, Daniel's two best friends, no one except for Harry and Daniel. Harry assumed that whatever he had said to his brother after the Philosopher's Stone situation had deeply affected Daniel. Up on the stage, Harry tilted his head slightly when his gaze bumped into Daniel's. His little brother had just glanced over to where Harry was and just the tiniest positive reaction from his brother was more than enough for Daniel to smolder in resolve.

Both arch enemies bowed to each other, just a little. They raised their wands like swords. Malfoy, who hated the thought of losing, hurled a spell towards Daniel before the count reached three. Daniel was caught off guard, but smoothly spun his body around out of instinct, missing the spell by inches. Eyes huge, Lockhart became the recipient of the bolt of magic, and he stumbled backwards. Livid that Malfoy was not adhering to the rules, Daniel swung his wand, snarling the name of the spell. It hit Malfoy square in the face and the boy fell to the ground.

Snape's jaw hardened, his hand twitching slightly to point his wand at the boy. Malfoy rose to his feet, though his forehead was swollen red from the spell. He was furious. Aiming his wand at Daniel, he exclaimed a hex. Daniel, not moving from his spot, cast a weak protection spell that was just able to block the attack. Harry watched his brother struggle to hold the spell. Daniel countered Malfoy's attacks with a Disarming charm, copying what Snape had just done. The light collided into Malfoy and he was thrown off his feet, though not as strongly as Lockhart was. The Disarming charm was not perfectly executed but the power of the spell was still admirable. Malfoy's movements now seemed to require a great effort.

Snape couldn't stand by and watch any longer and he flicked his wand at Daniel. A boulder was conjured and sent hurtling in Daniel's direction but a sudden new spell blew the stone into pieces. With his wand carelessly dangling in his right hand, Harry emerged coolly from the crowd and stood behind his brother. He had just intervened, stopping the stone from crashing onto his brother, and this gained the attention of the crowds. "Not bad, brat… Not bad at all..." Daniel stared hopefully at his brother. "For a loser, of course." Daniel pursed his lips. He should have known better.

"Now, now, Professor Snape. This duel has nothing to do with you, so let them go ahead. You're not Malfoy's second, are you?" Harry asserted with fake cheerfulness. "If you want to blame someone for Malfoy losing the duel, then blame him and yourself for underestimating your opponent." Snape glared at Harry with abnormal hatred in his eyes. Malfoy rose from the floor, his pale face flushed in rage, body trembling. The younger Potter had just bested him. "Shall we continue?"

"Very well…" With a smirk, Snape edged closer to Malfoy, leaning down and whispering something. A superior smirk grew on the blond boy's face.

Daniel glanced uncertainly at his brother. "Why are you looking at me, brat? It's your duel, not mine."

"But won't you give me some advice?" Daniel squeaked anxiously.

"Trust in yourself, don't cling to anyone else. Believing yourself is where your true strength lies. By doing that, you have the power to change fate itself." Harry shrugged offhandedly, folding his arms together, wand still in his right hand. "Well...that's what some creepy old man I know told me. Now, prepare yourself."

And Daniel straightened his stance once more.

As Snape finished the count, Malfoy rapidly raised his wand and bellowed, "_Serpensortia!_"

&What isss thisss place? Where am I?& The snake was clearly angry. Stiffening, Daniel's attention was suddenly fixated on the snake that had been conjured and he had wholly forgotten the duel. Harry narrowed his eyes at the caster of the spell, then at the snake, and then at his brother. It wasn't that his brother looked afraid of the snake, it was as if he…

"Do not fear, my boy! I'll get rid of it!" Before Harry could stop Lockhart, the man pointed his wand at the snake. With a bang, the snake just flew up in the air and then plummeted down to the floor. This just infuriated the snake even more and it slithered over to one of the boys in the crowd, Justin Finch-Fletchley. Fangs exposed as the serpent poised to strike.

&Ssstop this! Leave him alone!& Harry's eyes grew large as he realized the sound came not from his own mouth, but from his brother's.

The snake did stop but did not stand down. It was looking more enraged than ever. &How dare you give me an order! Whether or not you are the speaker of my language, no one but my king ssshall ever truly command me! All of you two-legsss shall be ssslaughtered once my king hasss been releasssed from itsss imprisssonment!& The snake glided its way to Daniel, preferring to lunge at him instead.

Daniel was paralyzed with fear, his muscles wouldn't budge. The only thing he could do was shut his eyes tightly as the snake leaped forward to strike at him. He tensed, but didn't feel fangs sink into any part of his body. Daniel opened his eyes and was shocked to see his brother gripping the snake's head with one hand. The snake was thrashing violently in his grasp. Harry was staring at the snake intently with a look of curiosity and mild surprise on his face. It was like Harry knew that no snake should ever have reacted like that to Daniel's words.

Harry finally lifted his head and gazed at his younger brother with an unreadable expression. "We need to talk." Harry wheeled his eyes to Draco. "Here, take your snake, Malfoy." Harry tossed the serpent back at him with full force. Without so much as batting an eye, Harry pushed his brother off the platform and out of the hall. A scream echoed from behind as the furious snake landed on Malfoy, however, Harry didn't care. Pulling his brother by one arm, Harry rounded another corner and shoved him against the nearest wall. Harry's emerald eyes flared to gold as he constructed a web of silencing charms around them both.

"I didn't know you were a Parseltongue, brat..." Harry said, a hint of surprise in his tone. "Since when?"

Daniel confessed candidly. "Since I was eight… That was the first time I spoke to snakes. After I realized I was a Parseltongue, I never tried to speak to snakes again. I just...ignored them after that. No one knew all this time, not even Mom and Dad."

"Why?"

"W-what do you mean, why?" Daniel shrunk, quivering a bit at the intense look he was getting from his brother.

"It's your power, isn't it?" Harry was now furious. "Why do you hate it so much?"

Daniel's own anger began to grow. "Have you gone barmy, Harry? Parseltongue is the sign of a dark wizard, the symbol of a true Slytherin. Snake language is what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. Don't tell me you don't know that?"

"Of course I do!" Harry bellowed. "What I meant is, what do you have against Parseltongue?"

"I - I'm scared... Can't you see how this will affect everybody, Harry? This is bad..."

"To hell with everybody!" Daniel jumped at that. "What they think is not what matters. I'm not frustrated about you being a Parselmouth. I'm frustrated that you spoke ill of Parseltongue, talking about it as if it's a bad thing."

"It is bad," Daniel argued bravely.

Harry snapped at this but restrained himself from shouting. "Tell me one reason why it _is_ a bad thing."

Daniel opened his mouth but shut it when he couldn't formulate a valid argument.

"Talking to snakes is a sign of dark magic? Come on, get real..." Harry scoffed. "That depends entirely on the witch or wizard who happens to use it. As far as I'm concerned, Parseltongue is just another one of the many languages we have in our world. It's simply the language of the snakes, and only a few humans are selected to partake in it. There are negative assumptions because it isn't an ordinary thing people hear everyday. So naturally, they make a big deal about it when they do come across it. Just think of how it would be if all of us had that gift. Would they still treat it differently? Seriously, people these days have no brains at all. They're single-minded. It just proves how prejudiced this world is."

Daniel propped his back against the wall and silently slid down. "You're right... I guess there is nothing bad about it. It's a gift for me to communicate with snakes and that's it. But this is bad, Harry. Everyone will think of me as some sort of Salazar Slytherin great-great-great-great grandson or something..."

"Then tell them all this, if you're the heir of Slytherin, shouldn't that include me as well? I am the elder Potter." Daniel looked at him in surprise. "Let's see if they can answer that question. Listen brat, forget what people think of you, they're not important. They don't dictate your life…you do. At one time, they all admire you, and then the next thing you know, they'll have stabbed you in the back because of some ridiculous rumors. Does that make them worth your time? So don't even try explaining it to other people. Just stay low and don't do anything reckless."

"Hey Harry, about the snake?" Daniel's facial expression was a mix of worry and solemnity. "I know I haven't talked to any serpents for a long time, but they aren't supposed to act like that...I-"

"It's probably the Chamber of Secrets," Harry brusquely reasoned. "Strange things occur after the chamber has been opened, right?"

He swiveled his eyes on where the four girls had been containing the other two from rushing to Daniel in the midst of their conversation. Harry nodded his head. They parted and let Hermione and the Weasley boy through. Harry waved his wand, destroying the silencing charms, and then came face to face with his brother's friends.

"Listen you two, if you ever think for one second that he's the heir of Slytherin, I'll knock you both out. Do you understand? I'm mainly talking to you, Weasley." Harry glared at the boy. "I know how prejudiced and single-minded you are in regards to certain things. And Hermione, don't disappoint me. You're one of the few at this school who have brilliant minds, and I'm beginning to like you a lot, so try to be there for my brother."

He left the two second years shaken, for they had never seen Daniel's brother like that. The four girls soon exited, but as they followed Harry, they refrained from bombarding him with questions. They understood that in times like this, Harry appreciated the tranquility of silence. He was in deep thought, anger still blazing through him. But his mind wasn't on his brother. It was something else. And this was something that infuriated him.

The snake.

A Parseltongue should be able to command a snake no matter how much the serpent dislikes the speaker or the command. The words of the speaker were usually like a Confundus Charm for the snakes, but today..."King of Serpents..." Harry whispered in a very low tone to himself, recalling last year's strange encounter with the snakes from the Pet Emporium at Diagon Alley. Now, the bigger mystery to Harry was not the Chamber of Secrets, it was the King of Serpents. He was aggravated that he had forgotten such crucial piece of information.

* * *

><p><strong>25 December 1992.<strong>

Christmas morning dawned, breezy and white. Harry was the only one left in the dormitory, still snoring peacefully in his comfy four-poster bed. His three roommates had all returned home to celebrate Christmas with their families. Usually, he would sleep in the common room, on one of the long sofas near the fireplace, but a handful of Ravenclaws had also decided to stay this year. Despite his change in sleeping location, he was woken up that morning by the girls, who burst into the fifth year boy's dormitory, all fully dressed. Four sets of hands pulled back the curtain around his bed.

"Harry," Callista said, poking his cheek. "Wake up."

"Five more minutes..." Harry groaned drowsily, pulling the thick and warm blanket over his head.

"Harry Potter, now!"

Jolted awake by the four voices, Harry jerked to sit upright. "I'm up, I'm up! Sheesh..." He shielded his eyes from the incoming light. Throwing the blanket off of his body, he wrenched his legs out of his four-poster bed. Wobbling a bit on his feet, Harry reached for his towel. As it always was in the morning, Harry's hair was wild and untamable. "You girls aren't supposed to be here," he yawned lazily. Still met with silence, Harry grew annoyed. He looked at the girls through droopy lids and arched an eyebrow at the sight of them. The four faces were drowned in red. Their eyes didn't meet his, their gaze trained down on his body. "What are you all looking at?"

"Harry!" Sheila squeaked in high pitched voice, still eyeballing his torso. "Why aren't you wearing a shirt? You should really cover your body…"

"There's nothing wrong with it," Harry groused, looking down his toned body and his nearly formed six-pack muscles. He guessed that a combination of working with the old man for years and training vigorously for Quidditch had transformed his body into a resemblance of a Muggle model's.

"Put - put something on, Potter!" Daphne stuttered, eyes still on his sculptured figure.

"Or at least cover yourself with something," Callista protested meekly, not making a great effort to extract her eyes from the sight before her.

"I was really exhausted last night and didn't bother to put on a shirt or anything." Harry exasperatedly enveloped his body with the thick towel in his hand. "What are you all doing here?"

The girls were blushing heavily and avoiding eye contact with Harry, embarrassed at having been ogling his figure without shame. They secretly couldn't refute how gorgeous their male friend was, in both face and body. Mustering every ounce of her reason, Regine cleared her throat. "W-we-we just wanted to say Happy Christmas, H-Harry, and w-w-we bought you o-our presents. W-we'll um, j-just wait for you downstairs," she said in a shaky voice.

"Okay, I'll go have a hot..." Harry blinked his eyes in confusion as the girls scurried quickly out of the room. "...shower first..."

* * *

><p>Night had fallen as Harry and the girls ambled in the direction of the Great Hall.<p>

Harry was wearing an expensive emerald long sleeve v-neck sweater that matched his eyes. It was a gift he received from Lady Greengrass. He refrained himself from asking Daphne how much the sweater had cost and just put it on out of gratefulness. The girls were chatting and giggling, but he hadn't been taking part in their conversation as his thoughts had drifted along in an entirely different route. Thinking of the girls now, Harry grumbled. After he was obstinate to stay at Hogwarts during Christmas, they decided to do the same, selecting to accompany him instead of celebrating the holiday with their families.

He was guilty, to say the least, but the feeling ebbed away from him when the girls explained their reasons and reassured Harry that it wasn't all because of him.

They all agreed that they had never seen or experienced how Hogwarts celebrated Christmas, and they each had other complications that remaining at the castle made the better option. Callista's reason was that her parents wished to spend Christmas outside of the country, favoring the snowy climate in Germany. Since she was not fond of going to unfamiliar places, she decided to remain at Hogwarts. Regine held the same reason as Callista, albeit her family was going to visit some distant relatives that she had never heard of. She wasn't comfortable at handling new faces, so she settled with Hogwarts instead. Daphne and Sheila coincidentally had the same reason. Their families were invited to some boring Christmas ball. Since neither desired going, they opted to follow in their friends' footsteps.

These rational reasons were laid out carefully so that their friend wouldn't feel guilty. What the girls didn't tell Harry was they all simply wanted the opportunity to spend more time with him. Their walk ended just before they entered the grand doors that led to the Great Hall. They were confronted by the Weasleys, Granger, and Harry's younger brother. Harry glanced at the girls over his shoulder and motioned for them to go up ahead. Interpreting this, they continued their chitchat and entered the Great Hall, overlooking the people grouped in the doorway. Harry transferred his gaze back to Daniel and raised an eyebrow as rest of his brother's companions went in as well.

Out of curiosity, Harry angled his head to the side. "What... are you wearing?"

Daniel blushed, embarrassed after comparing his own sweater to his brother's. "A sweater." He admitted to himself that he felt a twinge of jealousy as he looked at Harry's luxurious sweater. It must have been a gift from someone.

"Nice swe-... wait, you call that a sweater?" Daniel growled lowly, flustered.

"Easy brat, I'm just messing with you." Harry's amused smirk increased at his brother disgruntled expression. "So why didn't you go home?"

"Why didn't you?"

"I'm the one who's asking the question here, brat. Not the other way around." Daniel gulped his swollen throat at Harry's look. "You're up to something, aren't you?" Daniel didn't bottle up the shudder as Harry's gaze pierced through him. "Didn't I tell you to stay low and keep your head down? Many people are holding you responsible for the third attack. You just _had_ to go and try to quench your curiosity..." But Harry's tone wasn't one for rebuking as he sighed tiredly. "Well, I can't blame you for wanting to solve the mystery of the chamber. It's just how Potters do things. Just...don't do anything reckless, and if you're thinking that Malfoy is the mastermind behind all this, I advise you to reconsider that idea. It's ludicrous, if you ask me."

With that, Harry glided his way over to sit with the girls and enjoy the rest of the day with them. He paused in his steps and once more looked over at his brother with a genuinely baffled look. "Is that really a sweater, brat?"

* * *

><p>The Great Hall looked magnificent that night. Not only was the place covered with dozens of twinkling Christmas trees, thick golden streamers, and mistletoe interlacing the ceiling, but there were also glorious flakes of enchanted snow falling down. Instead of the natural cold and icy texture, however, it was warm and dry. The girls were in awe of the sights around them, since it was their first time at Hogwarts during the Christmas holiday.<p>

Rather than acting her age, Sheila was more like a giddy little kid experiencing their first Christmas, squealing and pointing her finger at the magnificent sights all around. Daphne took a more reserved approach, but as she calculated the entirety of it, a ghost of a largely impressed smile played on her lips and her expression gave it all away. Callista was trying to figure out how the countless charms worked, questioning Professor Flitwick as he passed their table. Regine was smiling, attempting to catch one of the snowflakes but giggling when they disintegrated in her hand. All in all, to Harry, it was a great Christmas with the girls around.

After the incredible dinner in the Great Hall, Harry escorted the girls back to their common room. It was a custom for him ever since their first year. He was adamant to protect the girls from any potential assailants, and now the Chamber of Secrets had been opened, it only provided more reason for him to stick by their side at all times. Now, he and Daphne sauntered in the direction of the Slytherin common room. They had just dropped Sheila, Regine, and Callista off at their respective dormitories, and now Daphne was the only one left. Although Callista and Harry were in the same house, she claimed that she was tired and wished to get some sleep. In accordance, Harry insisted on sending her to bed first before accompanying Daphne back to her common room.

As they neared the Slytherin entrance, they heard a sudden creak. They stumbled upon a figure, emerging from a side room. It was Percy.

"What are you doing here, Weasel?" Harry asked inquisitively. He didn't bother to correct himself this time.

Percy looked furious and offended. "That-" he said stiffly, "-is none of your concern, Potter." He examined him suspiciously. "And what are _you_ doing here?"

Harry inhaled a deep breath and replicated Percy's posture perfectly. "That-" he said just as stiffly, "-is none of your concern, Weasel."

"Weasley! My name is Percy Weasley!" Percy bellowed, flustered. "Not Weasel! And stop copying me!"

"I didn't think you cared, Weasel...um, sorry, Weasley."

Percy craved to wipe that smirk off his face and throttle him right here and now. He would do so if it weren't for the girl standing behind him.

"What are you doing here?" he repeated angrily, outraged.

"None of your concern, Weasel," Daphne spat.

From the time Harry acquired the habit of addressing Percy as Weasel, the girls had adopted this nickname and it felt quite natural for them. It propelled Percy to the verge of insanity whenever he was called that name, especially when Callista accidentally blurted 'Weasel' and she wasn't aware of that tiny little mistake. Percy glowered at the gorgeous blond girl but was blocked with Harry's own glare. At least the guy had the decency to shrivel under such look.

"Well, if you'll excuse us, Weasel, we'll just be on our way." Daphne interlaced her fingers with Harry's and tugged him tenderly with her. Both students hurried away from the furious boy. Harry gave Daphne an amused look while wondering what was going on back there.

"Weasel is attempting to catch the 'heir' of Slytherin single-handedly." Daphne hardly suppressed her grin. "Every Slytherin has noticed he's been sneaking around a lot lately. Sorry to disappoint him, but I don't think any of us are Slytherin's heir. I swear most Gryffindors don't have a scrap of intelligence in their brains. The rivalry between the two houses is what blinded them all."

"If he wants to be discreet, why doesn't he encircle himself with a Disillusionment Charm?"

"Like I said, most Gryffindors don't have brains to begin with."

Harry chuckled at her response and Daphne grinned a little. She sneaked a look at their joined hands and smiled contently with cheeks tinged. They ended their walk by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.

"Wait, let me guess," Harry obstructed Daphne from stating the password, "Pureblood." The concealed stone door in the wall slid open. Harry's forehead creased at this and he whirled his head to Daphne in mild incredulity. "That was last year's password. You didn't change it?"

"No," Daphne grunted, displeased. "Unfortunately, some of the Slytherins share the Gryffindors' unfortunate lack of brains."

"-the last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago-" was the snippet of the conversation they heard when they both entered the common room. They soon discovered three second years lounging near the door and several Slytherins silhouetted in high backed chairs around the fireplace.

"Potter!" Malfoy roared, standing up from his seat.

"You still haven't learnt anything from your past experiences, Malfoy?" Harry playfully queried. "If you wish, I could give you another painful one. Your father won't be able to touch me because of my fame and I have friends in higher place than he is." A smirked coiled Harry's lips as the boy cowered back in his seat, partly from Harry's confident threat and partly due to the glare from the Greengrass heiress. "Don't you worry…since it's Christmas today, I won't do any horrible and despicable things to you. In fact, I'll ignore your disrespectful attitude just this once and just be on my merry way sending Daphne to her room."

Furrowing his eyebrows together, Harry's suspicious eyes perched on Crabbe and Goyle. They wriggled nervously in their seats. Both Harry and Daphne brushed past them all, heading deeper into the Slytherin common room that led to the dormitory. They came to two separate hallways and Daphne pulled Harry to the right one. She stopped first and whipped out her wand, swirling it four times on Harry while he countered her action with a bewildered look. She explained that the charms on him thwarted the alarms from triggering. They were about to go to the girls' dormitory, after all.

When Harry questioned how she knew which charms to cast, Daphne merely smirked and said, "Callista." At that, Harry didn't inquire any further. Strolling through the suffocating hallways and turning the corridors twice, they arrived in a particular hallway that had four doors leading to four separate rooms.

"I can't believe the Slytherin's upper year gains the privilege of having their own rooms," Harry moaned, dissatisfied. "If I had known, I would have coerced the sorting hat to put me in Slytherin. I would be having my own room from my fifth year to my seventh!" Daphne quirked one eyebrow, smiling at how he reacted. "Anyway-" Harry began with solemnity in his tone. "-Did you hear what Malfoy just said?" Daphne nodded. "Could you get the information of the event fifty years ago from Lord Greengrass?"

"I could," Daphne sighed, "but it won't be easy and it will probably take a long time before he consents. Father would not like me involving myself in something that could get me into perilous situations. I'll try, though."

"Thank you," Harry said. "I'll just be on my way then. Goodnight, Daphne."

Harry was just about to walk away when Daphne's grip tightened on his fingers. Before he knew it, Harry was spun around and was embraced warmly by his Slytherin friend. Harry blushed at the intimate gesture from his friend. "Um...Daph..."

"Happy Christmas, Harry…" Daphne whispered, burying her face in his chest for a while. She sighed blissfully at how warm his body was. With great reluctance, she liberated him and pecked his cheek, her lips loitering for a moment on his skin. "And goodnight..." As the door sealed, Harry shook his head, clearing his tangle of thoughts and the blush on his face. He received the same treatment with the other three girls earlier before which led to the other girls looked agitated at the affection. With a shrug, he scurried his legs out of the snake's pit with the intent of going back to his dormitory to get some nice, comfortable sleep.


	16. Chapter 15, Season 2

**Chapter 15.**

**14 February 1993.**

There's a sketch of muscle going in his cheek. Both his lips and eyes twitched in irritation. His jaw set in a barely controlled turmoil of frustration.

It had been a very bad day. Yes, a very bad day. And it had all transpired from the time, Harry first woke up to this present moment. The source of it was none other than Gilderoy Lockhart. When Harry first roused from his sleep, he found himself shrouded in a pile of love letters and chocolates. Two of his roommates, Jason Spum and Frank Birke, had spread all of it out on his bed, laughing at his reaction for obtaining so many gifts from his admirers. They shrewdly hastened out of the dormitory when Harry directed his lethal glare to them.

As Harry sauntered to the Great Hall, he was forced to take a different route to elude his fan girls. In their hands, they clutched letters and chocolates all meant for him. Later on, of course, it was revealed that Lockhart had kick-started this whole process by publicly announcing a Happy Valentine's Day to all students. The only other person who shared his disgust was Daphne, who was greatly enticed by the thought of cursing Lockhart to the next dimension. She had her own adventure with her peers earlier in the morning and their other three friends were overcome with giggles at hearing their little tale. They thought the day was turning out to be quite amusing.

Despite their assumptions, they too began getting more and more vexed as the day went on.

Most of their own admirers from their own houses thought it was the perfect opportunity to express their feelings. It was later discovered that a flock of owls, coming from the Owlery, harassed three Hufflepuff boys in a flurry of beating wings and pecking beaks. The assault was led by a red irate owl that reportedly belonged to a certain Hufflepuff. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were also taken to the infirmary for the injuries they acquired - a few parts of their body had been transfigured into various pieces of furniture. And four Ravenclaws found themselves trapped in empty classroom with no knowledge of how to free themselves due to the multitude of charms that had been cleverly placed on the door. Someone had to summon Professor Flitwick to undo the web of magic.

So for the rest of the day, Harry and the girls barricaded themselves in the library, seeking protection from Madam Pince. She was not exactly fond of noise in her precious library, and she would be sure to kick out anyone who made any sort of commotion regardless of who or what they were.

"Oy, you! 'Arry Potter!" shouted a particularly grim-looking dwarf. Behind him was a horde of other dwarves, apparently elbowing each other to get to Harry as well. Madam Pince bristled when they overlooked her presence, and Harry smiled grimly the look on his face signifying that pain was soon to be dealt out. The dwarves were oblivious to this, but the girls were wary, knowing that he would soon be on the brink of explosion.

Harry raised a finger to shush the little dwarf before he could say a word. Harry's cool composure turned to ice as he presented them with his furious glare that might disintegrate them if it viable. "You've got three seconds to get out of my sight, dwarf, and that includes the rest of your little group…or I'll introduce all of you to a world of pain," Harry hissed. "I'm not clowning around. One..." The first count was sufficient to send the dwarves scuttling frightfully for their lives. "Pitiful, the lot of them. To think they were once a powerful being back in the elder days, feared by most magical creatures... Now look at them, they've been reduced to some sort of…love messenger…" Harry murmured mostly to himself.

The girls chose not to comment as they readied their notes in preparation for O.W.L review. Nibbling her bottom lip, Callista exhaled noisily, attaining her friends' attention. "I have a confession to make."

"You finally punched Weasel in the face?" proposed Sheila, eyes shimmering in excitement.

"You kicked him really hard between his legs?" Daphne suggested.

"Or you have come to the conclusion of tossing Weasel to the colony of Acromantulas in which Aragog is residing and you want us to help you bait him?" They all looked Regine staggeringly. In response, she just shrugged her shoulders. "No reason to look me like that. Even my limit with Weasel is wearing thin. He's really annoying and approaching Callista all too frequently."

"No and no," saying this to Sheila and Daphne, she then moved to her last female friend, smiling widely. "And Regine, as much as the thought appeals to me, that's a big no."

"Well, go on then, what is it?" Harry urged, though vaguely disinterested in what his friend had to say. He was trying to finish his Transfiguration essay.

"It's concerning the Chamber of Secrets. I've looked at the issue of the petrifications and the monster within the chamber from every possible angle-"

"Which reminds me," Daphne interrupted. "Potter, I have the information you want. It was hard to coax father into telling me but I got a hold of it in the end. I recommend you to hearing this first before Callista continues with her theory."

Harry looked up, resting his quill on the table. "Alright. Callista, could you hold your thoughts first? Let's listen to what Daphne has to inform us." Callista bobbed her head, brandishing her wand up and down to cast a Silencing Charm around them.

"Very well then," Daphne agreed. She took a deep breath before continuing, "Father poked around at the Ministry and managed to access information on what occurred at Hogwarts fifty years ago. Malfoy was correct, the chamber did open. And after it had been opened, the Slytherin monster ended up taking the life of a young girl, a Muggleborn to be precise. Guess who?" At his friends' engrossed and confused looks, Daphne answered the question herself, "Get this, her ghost still haunts the girl's bathroom on the same floor Filch's cat was petrified."

"Myrtle? Moaning Myrtle?" Sheila was surprised. "You have got to be kidding me!"

"Jonnet, do I look like I'm humoring you?"

"Who would ever have thought it'd be her? It does make sense though. Myrtle is the only ghost in Hogwarts that just seems different from the others, and not just in terms of appearance alone," Regine affirmed. Callista was pensive, quietly digesting all of this.

"Around the same time all of this happened, there was also a student who was awarded for the special service he'd done for the school."

"Tom Riddle," Callista prompted. "He received that award fifty years ago."

"That's right," Daphne concurred. "Evidently, he unraveled the mystery of the chamber and apprehended the culprit."

"So that's how he got the award," Harry murmured.

"Wait." Sheila halted them for a second. "If the mystery of the chamber was solved fifty years ago, how has it been opened again?"

The others were struck with the implications of this revelation, but even more stunned that it was Sheila who reached this conclusion.

"You know, Sheila, now that you mention it, this Riddle guy seems rather suspicious to me." Even though he had never met Riddle, a prickling in the back of Harry's mind told him that he shouldn't be trusted. "Did Lord Greengrass tell you how this Riddle figured out the secrets of the chamber?"

"No, Father said there's nothing else in the report."

"Do you know how long he took to solve it?" Regine questioned.

Daphne blinked her eyes. "Yes, as a matter of fact, Father did mention that to me. It was a bit astonishing, really, because the day Myrtle died was the exact same day he seized and handed the person whom responsible to the authorities. This person was promptly expelled from Hogwarts. But think about this for a second. If the professors couldn't locate either the culprit or the chamber throughout the entire period, how did this fellow do it in just one day? Even if he merely told the professors who released the Slytherin monster, not explaining where the chamber was, it still must have been a remarkable feat." Her eyes narrowed. "Remarkable…bordering on unbelievable."

"All the more reason this Riddle guy seems suspicious to me," Harry muttered.

"Who was the culprit?" Callista enquired, her tone somber.

"You all are not going to believe this." Daphne was a bit distracted. "The report says it was... Hagrid..."

"What?" Sheila whispered hoarsely.

"No, not Hagrid!"

"Regine, calm down." Callista soothed the frantic girl, rubbing her back comfortingly.

"That's bollocks!" Harry was irate. "Hagrid wouldn't hurt a fly. Sure, he has an odd fascination with dangerous creatures, but there's no way in hell he's the heir! It's completely false."

"I agree," Callista consented, still pacifying her frantic friend. She was furious, a far cry from her usual gentle demeanor. "We have known Hagrid for a very long time. He's our friend. Even if he possessed such a hazardous creature, there is a one in a million chance he'd unleash that thing with the intention of hurting people, let alone killing people. No, I believe this Riddle guy is the person who's responsible for all the attacks."

"That incident took place fifty years ago," Sheila butted in. "So what if he's responsible for the attacks fifty years ago _and _the attacks now? We can't be sure that Riddle is the person who's behind all the current mayhem. He's not in Hogwarts anymore. Even to someone as gullible as me, that seems pretty impossible."

Daphne pondered her friend's words, crossing her arms. "Jonnet is right. However, it is likely that he was the true perpetrator and not Hagrid. He must have blamed Hagrid to conceal his own doings. But Father did say there was evidence to the existence of the monster and that it was sighted by over ten students."

"Hold on!" Regine suddenly recovered as something clicked in her mind. "Remember that time Hagrid blurted out the reason he was expelled? It was because he brought his pet into Hogwarts. And that pet was Aragog!"

"Yeah, and we have encountered that bloody Acromantula before." Harry soured up and the other three girls shivered at the nasty memory. If it hadn't been for Regine, the huge Acromantula wouldn't have permitted them to walk out of the forest alive. Aragog did, however, warn them to never come anywhere near his colony again, or else he and his children wouldn't dither to devour them. Regine was no exception.

"But we all know that Acromantulas consume their prey…they don't petrify it," Callista muttered more to herself than to the others. She drew in a shaky breath. "After assimilating all of this, I'm now positive of the identity of the Slytherin monster. I doubted this conclusion after the first and second attacks, but after the third one, it all made sense. This thing can petrify its victims, and it once killed a student. Yes, it's all linked now... The answer was always there, right in front of us. It's obvious!" Callista clapped a hand to her forehead. "Goodness, the answer was truly right in front of us the whole time! The symbol of Slytherin is the biggest clue of all. It's-"

"No, stop right there," Harry harshly disrupted her. "That's enough. Whatever it is that you withheld, just keep it to yourself. This whole situation is far too risky for you girls and I could never forgive myself if something happen to you. Someone was killed the last time they got involved, even if it wasn't intentional, and who's to say it won't happen again in the near future. Some things are best kept to yourself. So this is where we stop, no more digging any information or hunting down the chamber's location. That's it, end of story. This case is closed."

Three of the girls vehemently disagreed, their curiosity overcoming their sense of self-preservation.

"Um...girls..." Regine's timid voice sprang up and caused the dissent to wither away. "I think Harry's right, we shouldn't delve deeper into this. It's dangerous, really dangerous," she spoke hastily, a hint of panic in her voice. "Can we please just let go of this one?"

At their friend's plea and scared expression, the other girls traded looks and nodded their heads. "Alright, Regine. We promise we won't venture into this issue any further," Callista softly comforted.

Harry just sat there, thunderstruck.

"What, Harry?" Sheila said cheekily.

"Why are you looking at us like that, Potter?" Daphne grumbled.

"Finally!" he breathed. "You all agreed for the first time ever! I didn't think something like that would happen in a million years!" The girls just rolled their eyes. "Oh, stop with the eye rolling! Whenever I disagree with something you say, you all unite against me. But whenever one of you pipes up, you all agree straight away!"

Harry huffed childishly, picking up a random book and hiding his face under it. His mumbled complaints about girls and unfairness were muffled by the book. All four girls shared a smile as they caught snippets of his whining. They had no idea how he did it, but the intense atmosphere had reverted back to normal as they concentrated on their work once more, occasionally stopping to giggle as Harry cursed under his breath.

* * *

><p><strong>14 May 1993.<strong>

Harry tapped his foot impatiently as the wind blew fiercely, ruffling his hair and Quidditch attire.

He looked over at the Gryffindor team, now recognizing that all of their star members had assembled. His brother was the last person to arrive. They huddled up together, having a last-minute discussion of their plan of attack. Transferring his attention to his own teammates, he exhaled noisily. Callista was not yet with them and it would affect his strategy if she didn't reach the field in time since she was in the first set of the team. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. He ought to have just pulled her out of the common room along with him, but no, he had to back down from arguing with her when she insisted on going through her O.W.L notes one last time. He knew he should have forced her to leave with the team instead of by herself.

"Barton!" Margaret Barton, another Chaser, looked up. "We've got no choice, you're up. We can't wait for her any longer. The game is going to start any minute now." The sixth year girl nodded her head. "Seekers, a word? The rest, prepare yourself." The majority of the team members dispersed at their captain's order. The Seekers stepped forward. "We need to win this game to crush their morale. The next time they go up against us, I want them to be hesitant and wary. The Seeker is the key to winning this game." They nodded their head in solemnity. "Alright, here's the game plan. Li will play first and I want you to push my brother until he's out of breath. Drag him around the field. With your style, it should be easy enough to lure him out. Don't let him see the snitch. If you by any chance, spot the snitch and you truly believe you can grab it before my brother can, go for it. But never take risks, understand?" The girl murmured her assent. "Chang, I'll call on you when I think the time is right and you can finish off the game. I have faith in you two. We've already won against Slytherin and Hufflepuff, but we need to win this game as well, alright? I'll be counting on you tw-"

"All students are to make their way back to the common rooms, where their heads of houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!" Harry was interjected by McGonagall's booming amplified voice.

"What the hel-"

"Mr. Potter!" Before he could finish another sentence, Flitwick called out for him. The diminutive professor beckoned Harry over. "Harry, you must come with me. A terrible incident has happened. Come quickly!"

Harry handed his broom to one of his roommates, a concerned looking Frank Birke, who assured him he would return it to its proper place. "Don't worry, mate, I'll put it back for you!"

"Professor, has there been another attack?" he pressed, pursuing Flitwick.

"Mr. Potter, now is not the time for trading questions. Professor McGonagall has already asked Ms. Jonnet to accompany her. Your other friends are also waiting for you." There was a horrible twinge in the pit in his stomach. His palms were slick with sweat, and his fists clenched. "But I'm afraid the answer is yes. There have been attacks...two of them... and one, it concerns you..."

Harry couldn't think and didn't know what compelled him to, but his legs were moving of their own accord as he found himself sprinting. Jaws hardening, he prayed that the thoughts trespassing his mind would not prove to be true. He came to a standstill and he was greeted by the sight of his three other best friends, crowded around a hospital bed. Their expressions were twisted in distress and misery. Harry's insides did a series of horrible somersaults as his heart dropped. Time slowed and came to a halt. His eyes glued to Callista, whose still and unmoving body lay rigid on the bed. She was clad in her Quidditch uniform.

He'd promised...He'd promised he would protect each and every one of them. But now, his words were nothing short of lies.

Harry's eyes finally flickered to the other three girls' expressions and it took everything in his power to reign in his emotions. But as he spotted a single tear slide down Regine's soft cheek, he snapped. His hands compressed into tight fists and his teeth gritted out of rage. He was vaguely aware of the blood dripping from his palm as he clenched his hands too strongly, nails digging into the skin, but he barely felt a thing. Whoever was responsible for this, he would make them pay. He would have his revenge.

* * *

><p>"Professor, did the attacks ensue at the same time and in the same place?" Harry asked briskly.<p>

Flitwick was escorting him on the way back to the common room.

"Harry, I must ask you not to act rashly. For now, your safety is my main concern."

"I'm just asking, Professor...I'm curious..."

Realizing that the professor intended to ignore him, he discontinued walking. Spinning around, Flitwick looked at his pupil's unfazed expression and heaved a sigh, knowing from experience just how stubborn he was. It was one trait he had definitely inherited from his parents. "Come with me." Harry's expression turned to one of confusion, but he obediently chased after his head house.

After a few minutes of silence, they appeared in the hallway that led to Ravenclaw's Quidditch locker room. Harry was astounded, not because of the eerie silence, but because of the odd sheen and glimmer of the floor. As he looked down at it, Harry could see his own reflection staring back at him. It was as if floor of the corridor was one long mirror.

"Ms. Granger and Ms. Campbell were found in separate places. But both had one thing in common. We located Mrs. Granger near the library, clutching a small mirror in her hand. And we stumbled on Ms. Campbell here." Flitwick gestured with his little arm. "Now, as you can see, someone cast a charm to deliberately make this floor shine. A person can see their own image just by staring at it. There are only a handful of people who could execute this charm perfectly, and Mrs. Campbell is unquestionably one of them. As this hallway has only one way out, I can only assume that Ms. Campbell predicted something was after her. As such, this is the result of the precautionary steps she decided to take. Unfortunately, it still couldn't save her from being petrified."

Harry knelt down and traced his fingers along the floor's surface, finding it to be quite grimy despite its initial shininess. "No... I believe she charmed the floor to prevent the worst... and it's no coincidence that she came across this 'monster.' She was...targeted."

Flitwick squeaked fearfully, aghast. "T-that's enough, Mr. Potter! This is neither the time nor place to say such nonsense! Now, come along!"

Harry discounted Flitwick's command as he mulled over this new development, slowly reaching another conclusion. If his presumption was accurate, then the Slytherin monster was being controlled by someone. Harry couldn't help but to wonder, if he assumed that Callista was intentionally sought out and attacked by the Slytherin monster, whoever controlled it must have had a reason to do so. Why her? Was it because she's a Muggleborn? Was that it?

Now Harry was beginning to regret that he hindered Callista from divulging the identity of the Slytherin monster. He furrowed his eyebrows in solemnity, vowing to find and make this puppet master pay. Tracking this chamber was now his top priority. Since his sensing technique proved to be useless, he'd just have to investigate the whole matter in the old-fashioned way.

* * *

><p><strong>28 May 1993.<strong>

Two weeks had now passed since the fourth attack and the series of events that ensued resulted in a terrible time for the school. Not only was Hagrid arrested and shipped off to Azkaban, but Dumbledore was gone as well. With the headmaster not in the castle, fear had rapidly spread. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had even gone so far as to unify, banding together against the Slytherins. The majority of the two houses figured that since all Slytherins seemed to be safe from the monster, they were all part of a conspiracy bent on exterminating Muggleborns. Harry just scoffed at it all. This issue was too big for an average student to handle. The assailants not only hid themselves well, they were also capable of efficiently covering their tracks and hiding any evidence that pinpointed them as the culprits.

Harry scratched his head, aggravated. Now he sounded just like that Muggle fiction detective character, Sherlock Holmes. He proceeded towards the infirmary, many emotions surging in him. The picture of Callista lying in the hospital bed had haunted him ever since it had been burned in his mind. He couldn't get rid of it. He shook his head, kneading his forehead with one hand. Entering the infirmary, he was not surprised that Regine and Sheila were there. They were working on their notes for O.W.L very diligently. Following Callista's petrification, each of them had formed an unspoken agreement to prepare their Ravenclaw friend with gifts.

She would be thrilled at the prospect of her friends putting in so much effort for her. He smiled slightly at the image of Callista's excitement. It was just a matter of time before the mandrakes would be ready for use. He looked around and wasn't surprised to see his brother there. He guessed that the brat cared for his female friend. Harry even heard him murmuring to the motionless Hermione on many occasions. Daniel wasn't ashamed or bothered that Harry or anyone was there. For once, Harry admired his little brother. If he cared that much and was willing to go that far for his friend, then Harry supposed he'll lend his power to his little brother if the time came. The sound of footsteps snatched his attention and he swung his gaze to the entrance. Xi and Clearwater stepped into the infirmary.

"Oh? You two?"

"What, Potter?" Xi retorted. Even through Harry was her Quidditch trainer and captain, her attitude towards him was still unchanged. "You thought we wouldn't come visit? Callista is also our friend, you know. We've been visiting her many times these past two weeks."

"Hey, hey, no need to get uptight, Li." Harry hoisted his two hands in surrender. "I didn't mean anything. No need to get your knickers in a twist."

With cheeks tainted pink, she harrumphed incomprehensibly and rushed past him, hauling Clearwater with her. They took one side of Callista's bed, while Regine and Sheila occupied the other. The four exchanged small smiles as they had all grown accustomed to each other's presence by now. After settling in, Xi and Clearwater extracted parchments from their bags and began working on homework.

Sensing a strange presence, Harry was on his guard. He glanced up sharply, but relaxed his muscles. "Oh, Ms. Lovegood..."

A first year girl with dirty blonde hair that reached down to her waist, stood in the entrance to the infirmary. She blinked her protuberant silver grey eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Harry always felt that there was something odd about the first year girl. Maybe it was because she was wearing a necklace of Butterbeer caps, or because she had a light, airy way of speaking. Maybe it was her tendency to read the Quibbler upside-down. But for whatever reason, Harry was constantly on his guard whenever she was around him. Somehow, he feared that she might know who he truly is, he feared that she might just have the ability to see right through him.

"Hello, Harry Potter," Luna said with a dreamy smile. "I've never really had the chance to ask, but are you Lord Wrackspurt?"

"Um...come again, Ms. Lovegood?" Harry was baffled.

Her eyes shone dreamily and her smile widened. "You see, many Wrackspurts always gather around you. This infirmary is filled with them right now and they all are here for you, Harry Potter. They admire you very much. So, are you their Lord? You seem…different…than the rest of us."

Chuckling a little, Harry smiled secretly. "I have no idea. Perhaps I am..."

"Yes, perhaps..."

With an amused smile, he shook his head. "You know, Luna, you don't have to pretend. Callista has told me many things about you."

She was surprised this time. "Oh..." There's a hint of sorrow beneath her faraway expression.

Yes, Harry did remember this girl quite well. Callista had told Harry and the other three girls concerning a first year Ravenclaw girl who was horribly bullied and had no friends. Thankfully, Callista put a stop to the taunting immediately and punished those responsible. When Harry enquired as to why he didn't know about this when it was going on, Callista merely remarked that he would have if he took his prefect duties seriously. Harry just shrugged and readily agreed with her.

After that, Callista befriended the unique girl and accompanied her from time to time, letting her adjust normally and learning to deal with the girl's strangeness quiet well. Though Callista knew that some of the imaginary creatures she described don't exist, Callista still treated the girl warmly and gently, not debating with whatever she had to say. And just after few weeks in Hogwarts, the first year girl had a few loyal friends. Now, there was not a day she didn't have a friend by her side.

"Why don't you keep the Wrackspurts from infesting Callista? And try to not let the Nargles steal her stuff, eh?"

"Yes, I'll do that." Luna smiled sadly yet dreamily, looking at the petrified girl on the bed.

"Go on, have a seat, Ms. Lovegood," Harry ushered her, knowing how Luna felt deeply for the older girl.

Luna had visited Callista many times. Harry could understand that Callista was the person who changed her life and protected her from the bullies. To his mild surprise, Regine also got along with Luna pretty well. Probably, it was because she experienced the similar sort of difficult times during her early years in Hogwarts. He tilted his head slightly. Now that he inspected the infirmary for a second time, he realized his Slytherin friend wasn't here with them. Why wasn't Daphne present? She was always the first person to visit Callista.

"Do you two, by any chance, see Daphne?" Harry queried his two other best friends.

"No, Gryffindor didn't share any classes with Slytherin today." Sheila's usually cheerful eyes lingered with a slight sadness.

"Regine?" She just shook her head wordlessly. "I'm going to go and see her."

Harry didn't bother to wait for their response, he did hear Sheila yelling for him to be careful.

* * *

><p>Harry marched through the snake pit without hesitation, asserting his presence in the Slytherin common room. The whispers and murmurs slowly ebbed away. He discarded the stares blatantly directed at him. With his hands shoved in his trouser's pockets, he glided his way to Daphne's room.<p>

"How does it feels, Potter?" That one comment from Malfoy made his foot freeze in mid-air. "You can't strut around the castle as arrogantly, now, can you? Not now that your Mudblood of a friend has been petrified. It's a pity that she didn't di-"

That was all it took. Harry's boiled in anger as he rotated his body and charged at the boy and his followers. Dashing towards the second years before the upper years could stop him, Harry raised both of his hands and sent massive blows to two of Malfoy's bodyguards. His fists powerfully collided with both of their faces at the same time, and they staggered backwards at the surprise assault. Without pausing for a second, Harry turned to his next victim. He gripped Malfoy's left shoulder strongly, confining him, stopping him from moving anywhere.

His right hand retracted speedily and punched Malfoy in the stomach. Harry slammed his fist three times and the movement of his punches was a blur. Malfoy didn't even have a chance to gasp in pain before Harry bent Malfoy's forward. Without a second thought, he brought his right knee up, smashing it into Malfoy's face. This caused Malfoy to be thrown back, but Harry wasn't satisfied yet. He grabbed one of Malfoy's arms and yanked him back. Spinning his body in a full rotation, the back of Harry's left hand smacked Malfoy on the face. The boy collapsed to the ground with bruises all over him. This was met with an absolute silence as the people were too absorbed to intervene.

Harry stretched his neck to the side, his right hand rubbing the back of it. His left hand had returned to his trouser's pocket. He grunted, and without a word, abandoned Malfoy there. For far too long, the blond boy had been swaggering around the castle as if he owned the place. Harry was getting irked by the stupid little shit. Satisfaction flared inside him as he exhaled a breath. He grinned a little. It had been a long time since he beat up somebody. And if Malfoy kept up with his attitude, Harry might have to step up his assault the next time. Halting in his tracks, he rubbed his head, frustrated. He had almost forgotten about the charm surrounding the girl's dormitory.

"Way to go, Potter." Harry eyed the person over his shoulder. Barbara Zabini stood behind him, her arms folded together, a smirk playing on her lips. "You're as impressive as always..." Barbara raked her eyes over Harry's form with evident lust.

"Am I?" Harry smirked, twisting his neck to the Slytherin girl. He was pleased to witness the blush creeping up her cheeks. "Hey Zabini, a favor, if you don't mind? Levitate me to Daphne's room. I need to see if she's alright or not..."

"Figures, you came all the way here just for her..." Barbara whispered unpleasantly. Nonetheless, she complied. She whipped out her wand and waved it. Harry's body hovered into the air and Barbara transported him to the room he requested, walking along behind his hovering body. Reaching Daphne's room, she knocked on the door, and the two fifth years waited patiently. It didn't take long before the door was opened, though only slightly ajar. Daphne's right eye peeked through the crack.

"Daphne, Potter came to see you. He's concerned," Barbara coaxed, her expression softening a bit. "And before you close the door, you know how bloody well stubborn he is. He won't give up until you let him in." The door was still shut in their faces. Harry was confounded. Barbara clarified for him, "It won't take long. She may be deactivating the wards around her room. Hers are particularly nasty. Campbell came by once and constructed it for her. That girl is really brilliant, if you ask me-" She stopped suddenly as realization sunk in. "...Sorry, I mentioned her, Potter."

"It's fine..." Harry dismissed, his face devoid of emotion. They didn't have to wait long before the door swayed open once again. Barbara steered Harry gently inside Daphne's room. He nodded to her. "Thanks, Zabini."

She fluttered her eyes, unsure of how to react. It was not often the elder Potter expressed his gratitude to anyone. Barbara just dazedly nodded her head. She twirled around and went to her own room, across the hall from Daphne's. Unlocking the door and retreating to her room, she sealed the door. Seeing this, Harry shut Daphne's as well. Whirling around slowly, Harry was dismayed to see that Daphne had just collapsed onto her double bed, burying her beautiful aristocratic face in one of the pillows. Harry surveyed her room and he crossed it to reach her. It was small, but pleasant enough.

He perched on the edge of her bed, his back to Daphne. "Are you going to tell what's wrong?"

Something stirred on the bed and Harry felt Daphne was moving, sitting next to him. As she did so, she laid her head on Harry's right shoulder. Since Harry was used to it, he wasn't troubled by this at all. She had been continuously like this whenever they both were alone, be it in the Greengrass manor or anywhere else. At first, he dissented with the gesture, but knowing he wouldn't be able to win a single argument against her, he ultimately conceded.

"This has been a really quiet two weeks. You and Regine haven't said much and Sheila isn't very talkative anymore..." Harry's voice penetrated the silence. "And you didn't visit Callista today..."

"I..." Harry could feel her body trembling slightly. "It's too much for me to just see her lying there... not moving at all, just…stiff..." She snaked her hand around to Harry's right arm, clutching it tightly. Harry looked down at her, for the first time catching her in such a vulnerable state. "Will you stay for a while?"

Harry didn't know what made him to, but he found himself leaning down over her head, sighing as the smell of her shampoo breached his nostrils. "I'll stay as long as you want me too... I know that what happened to Callista affected you greatly, but it did so with all of us too. And it hurts to see you girls like this. I promise I'll be there for you all...for you..." Realizing the position they were in, Harry's cheeks started to burn red. His mind suddenly registered the very gorgeous girl in his embrace and his thoughts went blank at her touch. Still, he didn't distance himself, he just held Daphne as she basked in his warmth. He noticed that her chest was maturing quite well.

"Wait..." Harry paused. "You have your own bathroom?"

Daphne surprisingly chortled, not budging from her spot. "Potter, you're quite talented in ruining the moment, aren't you?"

"I'm serious here!" Harry growled. "Oh, that's it, I'm so going to change into Slytherin!"

"And what of everyone else? They'll see you as a dark wizard in the making. Will you be willing to cope with that?"

"If it takes me having my own private room and bathroom then hell yeah!" Daphne chuckled more. "Do you know how disgusting it is to share a bathroom with three other guys?"

She detached her head from his shoulder. "You're serious, aren't you, Potter?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

The more Daphne tried to not smile, the more her lips began to curl into one. Returning to her previous position, she nuzzled her body against Harry's, the smile never faltering, even for one fleeting second. "Whatever you say, Harry... whatever you say..." This time, she pulled him closer to her. Harry just rested his left hand on hers, squeezing it in comfort.

* * *

><p>Later that night, Harry sat in his dormitory, revising his notes. His other three roommates were keeping to themselves and astonishingly enough, studying just like him. One thing he was becoming positive of, was that Ravenclaws took their studies seriously. Notwithstanding if one was a playful person by nature, they wouldn't divert their concentration from a task that involved their studies. Incapable of reading a single line from his parchment, Harry grunted, rolling the thick paper and setting it aside. He stood up from his desk. Draping himself in one of his Muggle jackets, he briskly strode his way out of the dormitory, desperately in need of some fresh air.<p>

It was suffocating how tense the Ravenclaw tower was these days. Without anyone noticing, Harry slipped out the common room. He casually strolled his way around the castle, walking aimlessly with no fixed destination in mind. The Astronomy tower jumped into his mind since it had the best view and deliciously cool air. Deciding to head there, it took him a couple minutes to arrive, though he did take quite a few shortcuts. Harry came to a sudden halt as he felt a presence in the tower. Someone was just sitting and staring up at the sky. No, it was more like gazing sadly at the stars. Harry advanced on the silhouette and he had no difficulty recognizing who it was.

"Sheila!" The girl's body tensed up.

"Hey, Harry..." She grinned weakly.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"You first," she replied smartly.

Harry scowled. "Don't get smart with me. Don't you know how dangerous it is to be walking around by yourself?"

She chose not to respond and budged her eyes to the moonless, starry sky, bringing her knees up to her chest. Harry frowned as he approached her. He gazed down his friend for a while, enthralled by her athletic figure. There was no denying that Sheila was a very pretty girl and the wind enhanced her beauty, gliding through her short hair. He dropped down beside the Gryffindor, averting his gaze from her and following her line of sight to the sky filled with stars. A genuine and peaceful smile crossed his lips. It was so beautiful.

"You know," Sheila crushed the silence. "I love to watch the sky when I'm not flying a broom. It gives me a different sense of freedom and serenity. It is so beautiful, especially at night when stars triumph over the clouds."

"I know what you mean by that..." said Harry softly. Then a smirk crept into the corners of his lips. "Pity Quidditch has been cancelled. I'm missing my chance to snatch the cup from you yet again."

"You wish, Potter," she snorted. "...How's Daphne? Is she alright?"

"Yeah, she's fine... She just couldn't bear to see Callista in such state." Harry's smile wavered. "How's Regine?"

Sheila heaved a depressed sigh. "Still the same. She's been distraught these past two weeks. She hasn't talked much to anyone."

"I couldn't blame her," Harry murmured. "One of her best friends has just been petrified."

"There's more to it than that," noted Sheila.

Harry pivoted his eyes to her. "What makes you say that?"

Sheila rocked her body a little. "Nothing. It's just…she's always like that whenever there's an attack. Usually, she recovers after a few days, but not this time. I thought she knew every person who's been petrified, and since the recent victim is Callista, it just affected her that much more but that was certainly not the case. The only person she knew who had been turn into a stone was Callista," said Sheila carelessly, treating the whole matter to be unimportant.

"You're right..." Harry numbly looked back at the sky. Now that he thought about it, his Hufflepuff friend had constantly acted in a fearful manner each time there had been an attack. Mentally, he punched himself. He couldn't believe Sheila was the one who took note of that observation, not him. It elevated his feeling of concern for Regine. He would need to confront her tomorrow. Lost in his thoughts, he wasn't aware of Sheila's movement. She had crawled up behind him. It was only when a pair of arms enveloped his body that Harry splintered his thoughts.

"U-uh, S-Sh-Sheila?" Harry's cheeks warmed at her bold gesture.

"Regine and Daphne aren't the only ones who were shaken up by the whole ordeal…me too... I just need some comfort, Harry...please..." She tightened her grip around him, snuggling deeper into his back. His face softened. Hesitantly, Harry placed his right hand on hers, leaning his back into her more. He attempted to comfort her as best as he could.

* * *

><p>Daniel Potter had made a very bad decision.<p>

Sure, he made fairly horrible decisions from time to time, but the slight uncomfortable situations those choices situated him cannot be compare to the one he was in at the present. Here he was, with Ron and Fang, cornered with nowhere to go, surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of spiders. And not just any tiny spiders that crawled about in attic corners, but big, hairy, nasty and huge spiders, almost at the size of a carthorse. He and Ron had urgently desired to solve the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets, and so they foolishly ventured deep in the Forbidden Forest, where they landed themselves in the midst of a huge colony of Acromantulas. Daniel gathered what remain of his courage and steeled himself in anticipation for the worst. His wand was in his hand.

He knew it wouldn't do them good, but at least he'd put up a fight and stall them until they'd be rescued by miracles. Though the odds of that happening didn't look so good.

"I warned you, brat. I warned you not to act so recklessly," a sudden voice boomed. "But you're just so stubborn."

Daniel's heart leapt. He couldn't be more relieved at hearing the familiar voice. His brother was here! Out of instinct, the spiders that had seemingly been closing in, abruptly halted, the sound of their clicking pincers rapidly drifting away. They tentatively backed down.

"W-who's that?" Ron squeaked fearfully, looking from side to side frantically. Harry dispersed the ancient invisibility spell and materialized behind Ron. His hand expertly chopped at the back of Ron's neck. The Weasley's eyes bulged at the unexpected assault before he passed out and collapsed to the ground with an idiotic silly look on his face. Harry's own expression was unreadable, but Daniel could discern that he was pretty serious, and there was a hint of trepidation in his eyes.

"Why did you do that to Ron?" Daniel groused callously.

"I don't want him to know it was me..." Harry then glared his brother. "I don't know if I should compliment you or insult you for being both brave and an idiot. It's honorable how you wanted to know the heir wasn't Hagrid, but that was still a very stupid move."

"Harry Potter..." said Aragog slowly. The gigantic spider stepped out from his domed web. "Why have you come?"

A single bead of sweat trickled down his cheek, but Harry reinforced himself with a look of confidence. "It's nice to see you too, Aragog. It's been what? Three years at most? And you could tell it was me even though you are blind?"

"I have come to know and feel your presence," croaked the old spider. "But you do seem much different from the last time we met... you have grown in strength...yes..."

"Aragog," Harry imposed his body from quivering. "How about you just forget we came and let us walk out?"

"I think not..." The gigantic spider was up on its eight legs. "I advised you long ago to not stray into our midst, and yet you pay no heed of my caution. I have let you go once but no more. I shall consume you myself. I cannot deny your flesh meat any longer."

"Tch..." Harry clicked his tongue, refraining from saying something impetuous. "Fine, be that way. But there is something I'd like to discuss with you, something that involves, perhaps, a very old myth..."

"If it is your last request, then very well, I shall comply, Harry Potter."

Pleased, Harry swiveled his gaze to his brother. "This is a conversation that doesn't concern you. I'll lift this spell after I'm done conversing with him. Don't do anything reckless, not unless I say so, you got that? Just stay where you are." Daniel nodded his head vigorously. "This spell will only makes you temporarily deaf, nothing more. It's something I picked up in our mansion's library. _Fisius!_" Daniel's ears lost their function.

"Right, where were we?" His heart was beating riotously. "I want to know what you have heard from the old legends. Is there any possibility that a particular kind of creature could control a larger population?"

"Many..." said the aged spider. "There are powerful creatures like I-"

"I don't quite think you understand what I mean, Aragog," Harry cut him off, controlling his rapid breath. "I wasn't referring to you and your family. I'm talking about a great and powerful creature. A creature capable of a great feat and possesses unimaginable power that is beyond our comprehension. What's more, a creature capable of dominating a whole species in this world as a king, preferably...serpents..." There was no sound in response this time, no clicking from the huge spiders, no moaning from Ron and not even the rustled from the leaves. The temperature sunk to an icy level and Harry's muscles tensed. "I knew the only way I could uncover the information was by talking to its mortal enemy and that's your kind. Snakes and Spiders aren't exactly what you called friends. What better way than to ask you directly? You must've realize how the snakes have been acting, am I correct? You can feel it, can't you? Something is stirring, something is about to unleash to this world in the future years to come." Harry inquired curiously. "I'm talking about the_ real_ King of Serpents, Aragog..."

"Enough!" Aragog rumbled and the clicking noise from his pincers was a furious one. "That is all lies! Nothing but lies! It is an ancient myth that tells us of a being so horrible that even the fiercest beast of the land fears of its existence. This being is known to take the form of a serpent …It is bad enough for us to flee from the beast resides in the depths of the castle. But this ancient myth mocked more of our superiority! My children, do not them leave, is particular Harry Potter! He possesses too much knowledge of the lost ancient world. Annihilate him and leave nothing behind!"

Harry had what he came for and knew the beast is existed, in the form of a serpent. He dispelled the charm he cast earlier over his brother. "Prepare yourself, brat!" Stomping his foot to the ground, he was now in a defensive stance. Daniel didn't need to be told twice, and he toughened himself up.

"What did you do?"

Harry couldn't resist the smirk on his lips. "I wounded his pride."

Gnashing his teeth, Harry roared, dropping his arms to his sides and channeling an immense amount of focus. As the Acromantulas lunged towards them, they were blocked by the invisible barrier set by Harry. Unrelenting, they raised their pincers and battered the shield with everything they had. Harry grunted in pain as vein of muscle sketched to both of his hands. Sweat started to pour out of him. It was too much for him to handle, there were too many. He couldn't retain his _Telekinesis _for much longer. He dropped to one knee, breathing heavily, and glanced gallingly at his brother over his shoulder.

"Don't just stand there, do something!"

"What?" Daniel spoke with alarm.

"Take them out! Repel them one by one or eradicate them if you have to!" yelled Harry desperately. "It won't affect the shield if you cast spells on them!"

Harry's body was bowled over a little by the force of the Acromantulas, but he strengthened himself once again. His eyes were now closed, concentrating to preserve the barrier. By now, most of the spiders were pounding at the unseen wall with their whole bodies, and most of them hopped on top of it, prolonging their merciless attacks. The Acromantulas were slowly but steadily closing in. Daniel flung spells from one spider to another, not faltering for one second. Fang was whimpering and cowering over Ron's fallen form.

"You shouldn't have knocked out Ron!" Daniel barked heatedly. "He could have helped us! But no, you just had to be so full of yourself! And you had to _keep yourself from unwanted attention_!"

"Is this really the time? And I don't sound like that!" Harry fiercely disputed, his eyes still shut. He peeked an eye, panting, and saw that Aragog was gradually shortening the distance to them. If that giant Acromantula participated in the assault, then checkmate, it's all over for them. Just maintaining the force of the push with this large number was too much for him. "We've got no choice..."

"What was that?" Daniel pointed his wand at his target and hissed a spell.

"We'll have to take out Aragog!"

"What?" Daniel exclaimed, stunned. "He's Hagrid's-"

"And that thing tried to eat us!" Harry hollered angrily.

Daniel was conflicted for a moment. "That still won't do anything! What about the others?"

"Still a brat," Harry grinned cockily, gasping air from time to time. "You should know better. If you're outnumbered, the next best thing to do is to eliminate the leader. It's a rule of the battlefield, and it's the best choice you have in circumstances like this. The rest will be either confused at the sudden turn of tide or will be scattered away. The worst thing could happen is they go berserk on us."

"That's not bad! Yes, not bad at all!" Daniel bellowed mordantly.

"Aragog!" Harry called out. "Retreat now, before I'm forced to kill you!"

"What are you doing?"

"Giving him a warning," Harry stated simply.

"What good will that do? Do you think he'll listen to us? He's a little pissed off right now!" Daniel screamed crossly. "And how are you going to harm Aragog if we're still surrounded by these other Acromantulas!"

Harry inhaled a good amount of air. Opening his eyes fully, the emerald color converted to pure gold. "_Sinetis mur fignes!_" As he uttered the spell, he rose up on his feet. With the support of the _Mystic Eyes_ and his wandless ability, he decanted more magic into the spell. A massive shockwave discharged from Harry's body, overpowering the Acromantulas. They all were pushed powerfully and went flying into the distance. Daniel gasped, falling onto his butt as he shielded his face with both of his hands from the impact. Harry, without wasting time, raised one hand, aiming towards Aragog. His eyes were still glowingly gold in color.

"Aragog!" he shouted, noticing the spiders who didn't get hit by the impact crept up on them. "Last chance! Call your children to retreat!"

Harry gritted his teeth as the aged spider didn't acquiesce. "_Distraho ut cinis cineris._" Much to Harry's amazement, one of the nearest Acromantula leapt forward in between Aragog and the magic. It hit the younger Acromantula instead and the spell disintegrated the spider wholly, obliterating it to dust. Harry cursed at this. He ducked when one of the other Acromantula dove for him and he kicked his right foot up. It slammed into the Acromantula painfully and the thing soared into the air though it recovered instantly, flipping in the mid air and smoothly landed on the ground.

"Why are you stopping? Whatever spell that was, it was brilliant! Use it again!"

Harry was now irate. "I can't, brat! That spell drained a lot of my magic! If I use it two more times, my magic will be depleted completely!"

Knowing they now had full advantage, the Acromantulas proceeded, though more cautious than their previous aggressiveness. The two brothers retreated until both of their backs pressed flatly against each other. "So, what now?" Daniel asked, eccentrically no hint of fear in his voice.

Harry smirked, squeezing his eyes shut. "I was thinking of casting _Fiendyre _as my last resort...That will burn them to ashes, all at once." Opening his eyes, the color once more restored to its usual emerald.

"Are you mad? You'll burn down the whole forest." Daniel scowled. "Don't you have any other spell to deal with them?"

"Unfortunately, no. The spell I utilized on the Acromantula just then was the most powerful one I have in my arsenal. It basically melts the victim, no matter how big or powerful they are. However, it also means taking a big risk. If my aim is anything short of perfect, I'm just wasting my magic and the spell is useless against large number. It's intended for one target only."

Daniel sighed, resigning to his fate. "Maybe being bitten by them isn't that bad at all."

Harry arched an eyebrow at that. "You're starting to sound like a real Potter, brat."

"What can't I say? I am one," Daniel responded with a glint of mischievousness.

"Hmph." The Acromantulas inched more closely to them. "Here they come, brat. If we fall-"

"-we take them all with us..." Daniel finished it for his brother.

"Damn right, we do. We are Potters after all."

As both brothers readied themselves, a long horn sounded, and blaze of light ignited the darkness of the hollow. A battered car was thundering down the slope, headlights glaring and knocking the spiders out of its way. The car screeched into a halt in front of them and the doors flew open. Harry's mind was in a whirl. "Levitate the Weasley and Fang into the back of the car! I'll hold them off!" An Acromantula impulsively charged towards Daniel. Harry, seeing this, raised his left leg high above his head, displaying his flexibility.

Summoning his magic as his eyes flashed to gold, he plunged down his foot on the Acromantula. Straight away, he shabbily conjured a simple very sharp spear and thrust it powerfully into the Acromantula's head. It screeched, hysterically moving its eight legs in different directions, and then slumped down after a while, signifying its death. Extracting the spear, followed by a spurt of blood, Harry took a perfect aim at Aragog. It was his one last chance, and with a roar of lion, he hurled it with all his might. But the spear was deflected by the giant Acromantula.

"At least I try..." Harry murmured, his eyes returning back to emeralds. Spinning around, he darted towards the car. "I'll drive, brat!"

He shoved his brother to the passenger seat, diving into the front and slamming the door shut. He positioned his hands on the steering wheels. "Sorry, car but I'll take control for now. You'll thank me after I upgrade you." He took a deep breath. "_Augeo the res patrocinor!_" There was a flash of light that blinded them all. Any damage of the car was instantly fixed, its structure became more solidified and improved. It was almost as if it was a brand new car.

"Man, gotta thank the old man for teaching me that spell. I didn't think it was possible." Harry smirked, eyeing his brother in the corner. Daniel's mouth was agape. "That magic was to strengthen and enhance the structure of things to greatly improve upon them. It also increased its effectiveness. But you can only choose whether you want it focusing on offence or defence. What I cast just then was a complete defence remake and it's now more invulnerable."

The spiders jumped on the car, banging the windshield wrathfully, however, it did not fracture nor scratch it. "If you're going to drive then hurry up!"

"Relax, brat, nothing will happen. I got this. Now..." He grabbed a hold of the clutch and shifted it to reverse. Reeling his body around, Harry stamped on the accelerator, bringing the car in a full circle. "Move Fang, I can't see."

"How can you be so bloody calm?" Daniel snarled.

Harry disregarded him and switched the clutch, now turning it to move forward. Squashing on the accelerator, Harry sped the car up. The engine roared and they were off, hitting more Acromantulas. "Hell yeah!" Harry exclaimed, exhilarated at the scene of giant spiders being thrown into the air. One of the Acromantula was smashed by the car. It rolled off onto the windshield, then to the car's roof before crashing down to the back bumper and onto the ground. Both brothers guffawed at that, adrenaline pumping onto them. "God, I always wanted to drive!"

Harry swerved the car, seizing another route, demolishing more of the nasty Acromantulas. Both brothers whooped in elation, laughing as the spiders were thrashed into the air. "I think I'm getting the hang of this!" Harry proclaimed, still in high spirits. "We're almost out of the forest now. The Acromantulas aren't chasing us anymore." True to Harry's words, the trees were gradually getting thinner. Skillfully, Harry evaded the large oaks, procuring a safer route. They now could see patches of sky again. Slowing the car down, he finally pulled a stop in front of Hagrid's house.

Harry looked at his brother and Daniel returned it with the same favor. Both cocked an eyebrow before transferring their awareness to the back seat. Fang was flinging himself onto the window, howling in anxiety. Ron was snoring loudly, sleeping peacefully. "Get them out."

"Alright." Daniel nodded his head. "Come on, Fang."

Daniel opened the door and the dog shot off to Hagrid's cabin. Harry got out as well, inhaling the air. His face contorted into disgust at the sight of the Weasley boy drooling. "Get him out of there before I do it myself, and clean the seat while you're at it." Daniel speedily hovered his best friend out of the car, resting him on the ground first. Stretching his arms, Harry yawned, patting the automobile gratefully. "Well, I haven't had an adventure like that for a while now."

"So, Hagrid _was_ innocent," Daniel said, standing up after checking his best friend.

"Of course, he is," Harry sighed exhaustedly. "He may have an unlikable fascination with dangerous creatures but he would never hurt people." Now, Harry was pensive. "Thinking of the conversation I had with Aragog, it does make me wonder..."

Harry rubbed his chin with his right hand, submerging into a deep thought. Daniel could hear his brother carry on mumbling 'King of Serpents' over and over again. After a while, Harry lifted his head, his eyes huge. "Of course!" he whispered throatily. "There is a beast that can petrify and kill. Aragog did say they fled from the beast as if they feared it. I kept thinking about the real King of Serpents when the answer to all the attacks is actually that!" Harry whacked his forehead. "God, how could I be so blind! And Callista figured it out ages ago! It's - it's-"

"It's what?" Daniel urged.

Harry shook his head. "This is something beyond us, brat. Forget this Chamber of Secrets and I mean it. If we go up against it, we'll only be facing instantaneous death and that's a certainty. But...how did it move without being seen? Something as large as that, someone would've spotted it." Harry was aggravated, his forehead crinkled together. "Somehow, I regret not letting Callista search the answer more."

"Brat, trust me when I say this. You'll die if you confront this thing so let it go," Harry advised. Daniel swallowed at his brother's serious expression. "Now then." Harry unlocked the door to the car.

"What are you doing?"

"Are you kidding? I'm keeping this car. I always wanted a car to drive around in the Muggle world. I'm going to hide it in the Forbidden Forest and by the end of the term I'll bring it to a much more comfortable and safer place."

"What!" Daniel was stunned. "That car belongs to Mr. Weasley, you can't just take it! That's called stealing! And besides, what makes you think it's going to submit to you, it had a mind of its own! Do you really think it would willingly be your car just like that?"

"Well, shall we ask the car then?" Harry smirked cockily. "Say car, since I cleaned you and modified your structure into a more superior than your original state, why don't I become your owner? You'll be in much better care than your previous owner. I heard they've been treating you badly. Although, you'll have to act like a real car and not some kind of creature... So, what do you say?"

The engine roared approvingly and Harry's smirk widened. Daniel's jaws dropped at how easily Harry persuaded the car. "Well, that settles it then, he's mine. Keep this a secret, brat or this car will come after you." Harry went inside the car. "You better get into the castle before anyone finds out!" With that yell, Harry raced the car back into the forest and disappeared from the view. Daniel shook his head in amazement. There's no way he could compete with his brother, be it in any field.

That settles it then. His brother was not a human, and he was not a true spawn of devil either... he was a reincarnation of the devil himself.


	17. Chapter 16, Season 2

**Chapter 16.**

**29 May 1993.**

"Regine isn't in the dormitory?" Anna Kowalski, Regine's roommate and the only person she considered her close friend in Hufflepuff, shook her head timidly. "Then where could she be?"

"I don't know. She isn't supposed to go anywhere, much less out of the dormitories. Professor Spout has warned us through and through that it's far too dangerous to just wander around the castle, but she's not here." Anna whimpered, a hint of panic creeping into her voice. "What should we do?"

Harry puckered his lips, scowling a little. Regine had been acting strangely, and she hadn't been herself. He had noticed her odd behavior ever since the Chamber of Secrets had been publicly opened. As to whatever was causing this anxiety, he had no idea, but he did know just how much she was affected by it. Sometimes, he could see the dark rings circling her eyes and she didn't seem to be eating well or paying any heed to her surroundings. Her behavior would only worsen whenever there was an attack and she would constantly be wary of those around her.

He looked up at the timid girl to see her now pacing to and fro, muttering fretfully to herself. It was clear she was awfully worried about Regine. Even though she was quite timid and bashful, Harry was thankful that she befriended Regine and gave her a shoulder to lean on. It would be awfully lonely if you didn't have a single friend in your house. And even Daphne, regardless of her aloofness and frostiness, had more luck compared to Regine in relation to friends. It proved that the girl in front of him was a true Hufflepuff.

"Don't worry, Kowalski, I'll find Regine and accompany her back. You just stay in your common room and wait for her there."

"Are you sure?" Harry nodded his head. "Alright, but please do be careful. I'm worried about Regine. She hasn't been herself lately."

Harry nodded and excused himself, swiftly departing and heading towards their private place by the lake, at the edge of the forest. If there was one location Regine would be, it was their special memorable spot. She was peaceful every time she was there. Harry felt an emptiness growing inside him as every hallway he turned was vacant. The corridors were usually crammed with students and faculty members, the halls were alive with their energy. Now, he was with the mere company of dusty walls, rusty suits of armor, and flickering torches of fire lining the walls.

Exiting the castle, he was greeted with a rush of wind. He looked up the clouds and sighed in contentment, embracing the breeze as it caressed his skin. In front of him, he could make out the large tree by the Great Lake and, with a jolt, he saw a flicker of scarlet hair. Without a second thought, his legs propelled his body in her direction. Harry's eyes softened as they took in the girl's slender figure and the way her gold-like eyes wandered over the lake. The water glistened under the scrutiny of the sun. Harry approached the figure by the water and knelt down next to her, situating his hand on her shoulder.

"Regine..." Harry murmured kindly.

The girl shifted her stare to him. "Hey, Harry..." She gave him a weak smile.

No words were needed as he joined her and sat down, fixing his eyes on the clouds, not minding the proximity of their bodies. His back was against the large tree. A comfortable silence settled as the wind playfully ruffled their hair and rustled their clothes. Harry was snapped from his reverie when he felt a petite figure lean into him, slipping between his legs and nestling against his chest. A head rested on his shoulder, and a sweet scent breached his nostrils. His face drowned in red at the intimate gesture.

"U-Um... R-Regine?" Harry stuttered. He suddenly realized that this was the third time, he had found himself in such situation as it has also happened with both Daphne and Sheila. "W-what are you doing?" Ignoring Harry, Regine draped his arms around her, snuggling comfortably into his chest. "Regine!"

"Please, Harry..." she choked out. "I just need... some comfort..."

At the sound of her anguished voice, he momentarily discounted their position from his mind. "Regine, tell me what's wrong. You know I won't judge you."

"I-I'm just afraid... Th-he thing... it's a B-Basilisk..." she whispered softly.

Then it hit him. "You know? You knew this whole time?" She nodded her head a bit too rapidly.

Of course, Harry had forgotten about her ability. No wonder she had been so restless. This explained it all.

"Shhh..." Harry comforted her, rubbing her shoulders tenderly. "It's okay..."

"No, it's not okay." She shook her head, vehemently restraining her sobs. "If I-I had told you all, then C-Callista wouldn't have..." Regine could no longer maintain her composure and her eyes became swamped in the ensuing tears.

"No," Harry said firmly. "You can't hold yourself responsible for any of the attacks."

"B-But-"

"No buts," he interrupted her. "It's okay to be afraid. There's nothing wrong with it. You were just too scared to say anything and that's all. What's more, you feel insecure of our friendships and you fear we'll abandon you just because you're unique. But Regine, we like you just the way you are, you know that," Harry chided her gently. "Being different from the others doesn't makes you a freak. In fact, you're a special and important person to ever attain such a gift. Don't ever doubt us again, understand?"

"O-Okay..." Unconsciously, Harry tightened his arms around her, holding her as she began to calm down. Realizing their position, tints of red surfaced on his cheeks, but he didn't dare push her away. She required all the comfort she could get.

* * *

><p>They arrived in front of the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. Regine, having soothed her whirlwind of emotions, smiled at her friend. Smiling a little, Harry readied himself to get back to the Ravenclaw common room.<p>

"Harry..." She reached out for his hand. "The Basilisk..."

"I told you not to worry about it. I already figure that the Basilisk was behind the attacks and I bet Callista found the answer months ago."

"It's not about that. It's something else." She was tentative. "Ever since the chamber has been opened, I've been hearing its voice... and it's full of a frightening bloodlust. Whenever I hear it, it gives me nightmares... It's almost as if it has lost all of its reason."

"Reason?"

"You have to understand, Harry," Regine said, her body shaking slightly as she gripped Harry's hand. "Every creature, vicious or not, has reason and the ability to think rationally. That's why Hagrid's dangerous creatures, like Fluffy for instance, don't run around harming people. If they don't have a logical thought process, their instinct will likely consume them, and it's never good if they fully submit to their primal impulses, especially if the creature in question is a dangerous animal. But this Basilisk has completely lost all of its reason. Now it's a just mindless beast, filled with a burning desire for blood...What I mean is, once a creature like Basilisk has lost all of its reason, it will just hunt and kill prey. But, _this_ Basilisk..."

Harry mulled this over. "You're saying it's being controlled by someone?"

Regine chewed her bottom lip. "Possibly... That's also the only answer as to how the Basilisk knows its way around the castle. And if it's released, it will just continue attacking people until there is no prey left to hunt. That's the kind of instinct a beast like the Basilisk has. It is quite similar to Aragog but Aragog suppressed his instinct with his reason."

"I see... So, all the attacks up until now have been organized..."

Regine nodded. "It's no coincidence that all of the victims have been Muggleborns. Whoever the person controlling the Basilisk is, he or she has deep hatred for them. Sound familiar?"

"You mean the bigotry of the Purebloods?" Harry's eyebrows knitted together. "No, I think this is something beyond their capabilities. For this person to orchestrate every attack without a speckle of evidence shows that they are a lot more powerful and cunning..." Harry shook his head. "Forget it. It's useless to speculate at something that we're completely uncertain of. Let's just concentrate on tomorrow. The Mandrakes are ready for use. Callista will be good as new."

That educed a smile on Regine's lips. "You're right, Harry."

"Oh, one more thing, Regine." Harry did not let go of her hand when she went to enter the Hufflepuff common room. "How much does one mature Mandrake cost?"

Regine was puzzled. "Why would you ask that?"

"No reason. Just curious, that's all. With all this Mandrake business, I wondered why the school couldn't just purchase the amount they needed."

"Well, if you put it that way..." Regine mumbled. "But Harry, while Mandrakes may not be rare or an extremely hard-to-find special ingredient, they are still expensive and when I mean expensive, I mean _really expensive_. Mandrakes are one of the ingredients important and crucial to countless potions. Do you know that one of the key ingredients for the truth serum is a Mandrake? Do you know that St. Mungo's is in need of Mandrakes every month?" Harry shook his head.

"Curing those who are petrified is just one of its many functions. Mandrakes are also used in the field of creating poisons, for example. Though, European Mandrake is the best for producing poisons. Moreover what you're asking for, is a mature Mandrake and that will be far more expensive. Only people who are desperate to acquire one will purchase it straight from the shop. Professor Spout is forced to just grow them over the year because the school budget simply cannot cover it. If you intend to buy fully mature Mandrakes, just twelve of them are enough to make a dent in the pile of money you earned during your time with Puddlemere."

Harry whistled in astonishment. "That much, huh?"

"Yes." Regine nodded her head. "However, if we look through the quality, the mature Mandrakes in the stores are much high-quality rather than raising the Mandrakes on our own. Actually, that goes the same with the rest of the magical plants."

Now, Harry was baffled. "What's the difference?"

"There are many. Although I can tell you this, the stores have the latest equipment to nurture and perfect a superior plant. Hogwarts' greenhouses might be suitable to the needs of the school, but most of the equipment is horribly outdated. Spells will aid in the process but not as much as the right apparatus would. Think of it like Quidditch. Even if you have all the talent in the world, you can't win a game if your broom is terribly obsolete. If you have a great broom that works with your skills, then you have a better chance of winning a game." Regine shrugged. "Anyway, one of the reasons why most plants have been successfully grown is due to Professor Spout's expertise in the field and her excellent knowledge of magical plants. If it weren't for her, I'm positive that most of the plants at Hogwarts would just wither away."

"Wow..." Harry was truthfully amazed. "You do have a natural aptitude for Herbology."

That served the color of pink on her cheeks at his words. It was rare for her male friend to compliment anyone.

* * *

><p>Scowling, Harry ruffled his hair, tossing his notes to the table in front of him. He glared at the parchment, as if it was the paper's fault that he couldn't read anything from it, that it was merely because he cannot concentrate. But it was all due to the picture of a Basilisk roving around the castle that splashed into his mind to the point he couldn't sleep well last night. He also didn't pay much attention in class today. Harry sighed, pushing himself away from his desk.<p>

Since there would be no class today, he shucked off his school robes, v-neck sleeveless jumper, blazer, tie, socks, and his shoes. Diving into the depths of his bed, he sighed in satisfaction at the softness of his sheets. Harry closed the curtain of his four poster bed and relaxed his body on the mattress. He looked up at the multitude of parchments, of various lengths and sizes, all stuck around his bed. Upon their surfaces were snippets of advanced magical theory. Everything from animal transfiguration and lists of ingredients for brewing specific potions, to common characteristics of magical creatures and plants, to complex rune symbols and their meanings.

Harry was privately hard work, but his research was kept a secret, even from the girls. This extracurricular magical exploration was the main reason why he was top of the school. If he couldn't sleep at night, he would revise these parchments. Right now, however, that was not the case since his eyes were gradually closing. It didn't take long before he drifted off to sleep, mind exhaustedly succumbing to darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>31 October 1981.<strong>

A four year old Harry scampered down the hallway. He ran down the stairs and hopped the last three.

"Harry!" Lily scolded, rushing to her son and fretting over him. "How many times do I have to tell you not to do that? I swear, you're going to get seriously hurt one of these days!" James just laughed at his son's antics and sent a wink his way, which Harry enthusiastically returned. "Don't encourage him, James! I know you Potters, and you all have a tendency to hunt for trouble."

"Hey, hey, he's your son too! And we don't go looking for trouble, trouble finds us," James countered smartly, adjusting his robes. "I'll just go over and check the wards again. Make your little goodbye quick, Lily, the meeting is about to start."

"Just give me a minute, James."

"Lily, I assure you, they will be fine. I told you the meeting won't take long."

She quirked her lips and muttered audibly, "I know, it's just… I don't like leaving them out of my sight."

James strode to his son and tousled his hair affectionately. "Harry, try not to hurt your caretaker, okay?"

Harry blinked his eyes innocently. "Harry don't know what daddy mean."

James chortled. "Just don't blow the house up and anything else is fine by me!"

"James!" He grinned at his wife and then attended to the wards, letting mother and son to themselves.

Lily transferred her attention to Harry, building up a reproving expression in an effort to appear angry. Harry just grinned cheekily, eyes gleaming impishly. Lily's shoulders slouched and she heaved a sigh, shaking her head. She swore the boy was too much like his father, too full of mischief. He was already overly sneaky at his age, too sneaky for his own good. Who knows how he would turn out in the future. She could picture him pranking many people and deceitfully escaping his punishments. Lily shuddered. Merlin, she hoped he wouldn't begin the next generation of marauders. But staring at Harry's grin, she couldn't resist the smile that curled across her lips.

"Mommy and Daddy will be gone for a while. You be a good boy to your caretaker and, like your father said, don't give her any trouble, okay?"

"Okay, Mommy!" he answered merrily. _Too_ merrily that made Lily suspicious.

"You promise?"

Harry pouted cutely at this, his bottom lips quivering. He was always true to his promises, and his mother knew that.

"Well, do you promise or not?" He feigned obliviousness. "Harry, I better not find out you caused her any trouble when I get back."

"But- but, she's a big meanie! She's smelly too and she doesn't like Harry! She thinks she's so pretty but she's not!"

"Harry," Lily cautioned, her tone warm but stern. "She's watching over you and your baby brother, so be grateful, okay?"

He folded his arms over his chests, huffing. "Okay…"

Smiling, she embraced him lovingly. "Also, keep an eye on your brother and protect him from the bad man Mommy told you about, alright?"

He nodded his head energetically on his mommy's shoulder. "Okay, Harry promise!" She held him tightly, enjoying his warmth.

Harry, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes as his gaze latched onto an eerie glow behind his mommy, a patch of shimmering gray light. Lily noticed nothing as she continued hugging him, even as the temperature suddenly plunged and the room darkened. He blinked rapidly, his eyes struggling to adjust to the amplified dimness and make out the shape that lurked ominously behind the light. He squinted to achieve a better view, mouth drying and eyes widening as the shape came into focus. A tall ethereal figure - no, multiple figures - looked straight at him from beyond the light, setting his heart racing and sending chills up and down his spine.

Harry didn't know exactly how many they are, but he was convinced that it is not one but many. He was certain he felt their piercing stare on him, but wasn't sure how it was happening as they didn't have any eyes at all. Where the eyes should have been were sockets of a glowing fiery gray light. They were saying something, their mouths moved in unison and their voices were deep, low and anomalous. But Harry couldn't understand their language, and he was too frozen with fear to even try. The sound of a distorted bell chimed again and again in the air as the figures kept chanting, seemingly trying to say something to Harry. He whimpered fearfully, not ready to accept whatever they were telling him.

The otherworldly figures then started to close in on him. His first instinct was to warn his mommy but when he opened his mouth, no sound emerged from his throat. He wriggled his body, whimpering more. His mommy just held onto him. He realized, then and there, that his mommy was as cold and unmoving as a statue. They had done something to her. Harry couldn't hold back sobs as tears streamed down his cheeks. As quickly as they had arrived, the figures suddenly disappeared and the temperature around them returned to normal. Time seemed moving back normally.

Lily was surprised when she felt something moisten her dress. She released Harry, concerned. "Harry, what's wrong, baby? Why are you crying?"

Harry was also stunned as his hand traced his cheeks to confirm her statement. He was bewildered.

Looking at his mother, Harry sobbed, "H-Harry don't know, Mommy."

And indeed, he didn't know. The memory of his meeting with the frightening and strange figures was completely forgotten. It was as if they had wiped the recollection from his mind. Lily misunderstood the whole situation, thinking that he was crying because she and James were leaving him for a short while. Embracing him, she rubbed his back, trying to calm him down. Harry, however, was confused about the whole thing, and his body couldn't stop shaking. His head may have forgotten whatever it was that transpired moments ago but his body seemed to remember it. A glimmer of light at the corner of the ceiling shrank and vanished.

* * *

><p><strong>29 May 1993.<strong>

Harry jolted awake, scrambling upright. His breath was ragged, his sweating body trembling violently, heart was thumping at a painfully fast rate. He abruptly swung open the curtain of his four poster bed abruptly and breathed a sigh of relief at finding no one there to witness him in such a horrible state. Harry was on his feet in seconds, but quickly had to clutch at the post of his bed, his legs weren't responding to him at all. Wobbling his way to his desk, he clumsily snatched a blank parchment.

Grasping a quill, he bathed it in black ink and pointed it directly at the blank paper. He didn't care when the ink sprawled messily over the parchment, his teeth just furiously grinded together as he focused on the task at hand. His body was still shaking violently, but he had to force his hands to obey his mind for a short while, just long enough for him to write a few sentences. The quill blurred as his fingers twitched and he scribbled lines of black ink at a rate he never thought possible. He ceased writing, still gasping for air, and his eyes widened as he gazed down at the words on the parchment. He wasn't at all bothered by the fact that his handwriting was chaotic and untidy, no, he just couldn't believe what he had just written.

_We have been waiting for you to be born into this world... it has been many years... Your ancestor has defied us many times and as his direct descendant, it is your role to take his place as one of our champions... We desire what it is inside you that belongs to your ancestor... but you shall first face your destiny... you shall face the obstacles that lay ahead of you... you shall slay the horror that is about to be unleashed unto the world... and you alone shall face it… We shall prepare you for your destiny as you are ours... you will join us and you will become ours... Your journey shall begin from this day onwards... until then, we await you... Harry Potter..._

"Captain!" Two of Harry's roommates entered the dorm and staggered to see their captain in such a mess.

"Whoa, Captain, are you alright?" Frank Birke queried.

Harry steadied his breath, his right hand running down his face. "Y-yeah, I'm fine..."

"Are you sure, mate?" Jason Spum persisted, trailing behind Frank. "You're sweating like crazy."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry reassured them. "I just had a nightmare, that's all." He turned his head to them. "What? You two got a problem with that?"

They both lifted their hands, hurriedly waving them in a gesture of surrender.

"No, no problem at all, mate," Frank grinned. "We just never thought you would have a nightmare."

"We're just glad that you didn't piss your bed." Jason smirked.

"Oh, fuck off."

They both laughed as they each went to their respective sides of the room. Harry looked back to the parchment. Fury coursed throughout his body as he crumpled the paper in fit of rage and burned it wandlessly. What was that all about? Was it one of his memories? Why he never recalled that one before? One hand stroked his temple as countless questions bounced around in his head. Just thinking about it all gave him a migraine. He shook his head, discarding everything that had just taken place minutes ago, it was too disturbing and unsettling. The questions he had would remain unanswered unless he asked the old man all about it, and Harry was sure the old man could provide him with the responses he was looking for. Yes, along with information about the _real _King of Serpents. For now, he needed to be patient.

"Hey, is it still afternoon?"

"No, it's already night. You were asleep for quite a while, mate," replied Jason.

Davies entered their share room and grunted incoherently. Harry came to a sudden realization that they were packing their things.

"Did I miss anything while I was asleep?"

"You bet you did," Frank piped up. "We're going back home tomorrow. The Hogwarts Express will take us back."

"What? W-Why?"

Jason turned to him gravely, folding his clothes all the while. "Someone has been taken into the chamber."

Harry was swept by surprise. "Who?"

"The Weasley youngest, whoever she is," Frank replied, waving his wand to clean his messy desk. "Professor Flitwick informed us all while you were asleep. We told him we'd convey the announcement." Frank then leaped onto his bed, sighing. "Man, I can't believe this. Usually, we'd have three more weeks 'till the term ends. What are we going to do about exams?"

Harry discounted his last comment as he put on his shoes and readied himself to leave the dormitory.

"Uh...mate?" Jason eyed him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just going to lounge around the common room. I need a bit of a walk," Harry lied smoothly. Briskly storming out of his dormitory, he stopped outside the door, surveying the hallway. Seeing no one was around, he took a deep breath and mildly shut his eyes. After a moment, he snapped them back open. He could sense his brother and two other people rushing in the direction of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

_Also, keep an eye on your brother and protect him from the bad man mommy told you about, alright?_

Exhaling his breath noisily, he hastened out of the Ravenclaw tower.

* * *

><p>"Well now, that's a phoenix." Riddle stared shrewdly at it. He swiftly raised Ginny's wand and sent a curse towards it. Daniel moved out of the way as Fawkes immediately took flight. "<em>Avada Kedavra!<em>" he hissed, and the spell struck the golden bird. Fawkes let out a loud shriek, and the next thing, the phoenix was a pile of smoldering ashes on the ground. Harry watched the scene transpire, observing callously from the shadows, noting that the image of Riddle wavered a bit as he cast the unforgivable. He had followed his brother down to the Chamber of Secrets and was impressed that his brother had discovered the location of the chamber. But he scoffed at how the two dealt with Lockhart. To him, that was nothing more than a stroke of luck.

"No, Fawkes!" Daniel shouted.

"Now, we can't have that bird helping you and I'm just taking necessary steps. Though I wonder what the phoenix will do. I have to say they are remarkable creatures." Riddle continued to smile cruelly. "The phoenix will revive itself, but by the time it does so, you'll be dead, Daniel Potter."

All attention glued to the sound of slow applause coming from the corner of the chamber. Diffusing his invisibility spell, Harry stepped out of the shadows, hands still clapping, eyes coldly gazing at Riddle. Daniel shivered slightly at his brother's expression, quickly dropping the idea of saying anything to Harry. He hadn't seen that look for almost a year now, but he definitely remembered that it was the expression when Harry confronted him before the troll fiasco.

Riddle narrowed his eyes at the newcomer. "And who might you be?"

A sinister smirk worked its way across Harry's lips. "Who would ever have thought that Lord Voldemort's father was actually a Muggle? I wonder how interesting it would be if the whole country knows it. To think that all the time his followers believed him to be a Pureblood, he was actually a Half-Blood. Come to think of it, he's actually the lowest kind of Half-Blood imaginable, even a Muggleborn father would have been better than a mere _Muggle_. "

The expression of superiority was replaced by one of fury. "Are you mocking me, boy? How dare you! Who are you?" he thundered angrily.

Harry casually sauntered to Daniel's side, eyes fixed on Riddle. "I'm Harry Potter, the brat's older brother."

A cold smile toyed his lips. "Is that right? I admit I'm surprised that anyone would be here other than the person I was expecting and that is your brother, Daniel Potter." His tone was now silkily smooth. "I've always had deep interest in your family. Tell me boy, since you are a Potter, are you gifted with natural talents? Amongst all the Pureblood lines in the country, your family is perhaps the most mysterious... and I won't deny that many under your coat of arms are quite exceptional. It's a pity the Potters didn't join me in the last war. I even gave them a chance, but they declined my generosity. I was hoping as the eldest of your siblings, would you consider joining my ranks?"

Harry's half lidded eyes stared emotionlessly at Riddle. "Why should I?"

"Oh?" The smile vanished. "Why, then? Is it because of your loyalty to your brother?"

Harry was silent, his hands shaking as his fists clenched tightly. "Your followers murdered my grandparents!" Harry snarled viciously after a moment of tension passed by. Memories of two old couples smiling gently at his little self swam to his mind.

"If your family hadn't turned down my charitable offer to enter as one of my elite inner circles, then I would have spared their lives. Too many times had I been so gracious to them yet they spat in my face," Riddle retorted, eyes glinting severely. "Is that the only reason? Such a shame that you came all the way here just to avenge their meager deaths..."

"No." Harry spoke in a soft dangerous tone. "That's not the reason I'm here."

"Oh?" Riddle raised an eyebrow. "Then why have you come?"

"I knew I had to keep the vow I made long time ago. To watch over my brother and protect him. That is why I'm here. And I'm not one to break my promises, so I pursued the brat without any plan like a true Gryffindor." Harry scooped up his brother's arm and lugged him to his feet. "I didn't know who the real culprit was, but I knew what creature had caused all the attacks." His emerald eyes then turned icy. "But now that I've learned the Basilisk was truly being controlled and that person _intentionally_ led all the attacks, I've changed my mind. I desire revenge."

"How honorable you are, Harry Potter," Riddle scorned him. "To avenge those pitiful Mudbloods-"

"I don't give a shit about most of them!" An image of Callista plunged into his mind. "But there's a Ravenclaw girl, one of the last two victims you attacked. I want to know if you've been targeting her this whole time!"

"Targeting?" Realization dawned on Riddle and he laughed aloud, a high cold cackle that made the hairs on the back of Daniel's neck stand up. "Ah yes, I remember now. That girl, yes... I do recall her. I have to say, she is a brilliant one, too brilliant for her own good. She was able to solve the mystery of what it is that has been petrifying the Mudbloods. But it was mostly luck, you see. Poor little Ginny was searching for a book in the library when she was drawn to a discussion the girl was having with her friends. I suspect you were one of the friends at that time. Dear little Ginny was frantic after overhearing it, frightened that the girl would pinpoint all of the attacks to her. She asked me what she supposed to do. I figured that with the girl's exceptional intelligence, it wouldn't be long before she unraveled everything, and I couldn't allow her to investigate any further. So I decided she would be my next victim. I genuinely wished for her death, but she charmed the floor into a mirror...and poof... she was petrified. I was furious and frustrated that a Mudblood could outsmart me. However, I came across another one on my way back and she was petrified as well. That did calm me a little bit..."

"Hermione..." Daniel muttered, immediately grasping who Riddle was talking about.

"Now, you know..." His words were tuned out by the Potter brothers.

"Brat," Harry hissed. "Is your wand with you?"

Daniel nodded, rage blazing inside him as well. "There's this crazy Auror that Dad used to tell me about. Although this guy is mad and paranoid, I learned one important thing from the stories about him, he never let his wand lay around."

"Good. Cast Reductor Curse on my mark, and aim at the bastard." Both brothers furtively whisked their wands out. "Now!"

"_Reducto!_" Both cast the same spell at this same time, doubling its effect. The light, however, just sailed through the man, and there was a small explosion on the other side. A huge hole was crafted in the wall behind him. Riddle looked over his shoulder at the hole before his cool gaze fell onto the brothers once more. "I see I wasted my breath." He flicked Ginny's wand in his hand, chucking a curse at them.

Both of them were unfazed as Harry slashed his wand, effectively blocking the spell. Then the elder boy lightly elbowed Daniel. Taking this as a cue, the younger brother quickly hurled a Disarming Charm towards Riddle. It just went straight through the man yet again. Riddle haughtily looked at where the spell landed and Harry grabbed this distraction as an opening, attempting to summon Ginny's wand. But Riddle was fast enough to assemble a simple shield to thwart the magic before it could tug the wand from his long pale fingers. Harry growled in discontentment.

"I underestimated you two..." Riddle was impassive. "I must confess that was very sneaky... I bet I could make a fine pair of Slytherins out of you two. But it ends here. Your bodies shall remain in this chamber forever! Dumbledore's phoenix isn't here to help you both!" Riddle threw an amused glance at them and the tattered Sorting Hat before turning to Salazar Slytherin's gigantic stone face. &Ssspeak to me, Ssslytherin, greatessst of the four!&

Harry's body went numb as he racked his brain for a plan. But his mind came up short.

"Fuck plans. Running is the best option right now," Harry groused. "Come on!" Jerking Daniel along with him, they wheeled around and whizzed away from whatever was exiting the statue's mouth. "Whatever you do, never look it in the eye!" Daniel bobbed his head rapidly, looking scared for his life. "Gather all the courage you've got, brat."

"W-what should we do?"

"I don't know! I'll think of something…For now, just run! Keep up with me!" Harry quickened his pace. Harry could sense the creature slithering heavily across the floor, hissing. His heart thumped his chest strongly. Harry glanced down at the floor and distinguished a big shadow looming over them. "Shit!" Harry didn't expect the huge snake to be that fast. "Brat, close your eyes _now_!"

Harry sealed his lids tightly as well, still running. Daniel, blindly sprinting and in his frantic state, tumbled to the ground. Skidding to a stop, Harry used his senses technique to locate his brother. He was overwhelmed by the magical core of the Basilisk but promptly regained a steady demeanor as the snake was more or less about to consume his brother. Skillfully flying over Daniel, he shoved his brother out of the way, the Basilisk nearly biting Harry's head in the process. Harry shivered a little, feeling his hair contact the Basilisk's teeth.

Forcing his brother's body to stand up, Harry yanked Daniel with him as he fled. His left hand was outstretched, seeking any indication of their direction. His fingers touched the wall and they had to spin around, facing the Basilisk with eyes closed tightly. Harry cursed the situation, intuiting that the Basilisk was probably preparing to devour them. He could put up a fight with his eyes shut, but his brother was his main concern now. A sudden impulsive crazy thought trespassed his mind. He brought to mind his memories with the old man last summer, recollecting something crucial about the _Mystic Eyes_….

_It will also shield your eyes from any form of magic or…instant death…_

Is this what the old man meant by instant death? It was a huge risk, but it was worth a shot. Rallying every fiber of his guts, Harry snapped his eyes open, gaze furiously darting to the big bulbous yellow eyes. Harry felt a sudden force of magic pressuring his own magic down, trying to penetrate it to get to his eyes. Harry let out a grunt of pain. Lowering his head, he shut his eyes. A small amount of blood trailed down his cheeks, emanating from his eyes.

It was unwise of him to look intently and directly into the Basilisk's gaze. He felt his wand vibrating warmly in his hand. Harry understood now. He'd have to focus every last ounce of his magic into his eyes in order to fully push back the Basilisk's own magical force and now, wandless magic was out of the question. If he does it, he'd just lose concentration on siphoning the magic to his eyes. However, with his wand in hand, he could still cast spells.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"Never been better, brat." A rush of adrenaline pumped through his veins, excitement swelled inside him. Smirking, he opened his eyes, the emeralds flaring into a gold color, shining slightly. He had to keep this magic constant if he wanted to survive against the Basilisk's murderous gaze. He didn't bother to wipe the blood from his cheeks as the snake bared its fangs and sprang at them. Harry wrenched his brother away from it, and a sparkle of light rushing to him.

Thrusting Daniel to the ground, Harry bent his body backward, a spell missing his face by an inch. His now gold eyes glared at the assailant. Riddle was furious. He just saw the boy staring into the Basilisk's eyes and he naturally thought it was the end of the elder Potter. Not only had Harry survived, his eyes were seemingly glimmering in gold color. Who is this boy? He waved his wand wrathfully, firing multiple curses. Harry deflected a few spells with his wand and shirked the rest of them. At the sound of mad hissing, Harry looked back to the Basilisk.

Harry pulled his brother up and whispered to him. "Brat, I want you to occupy Riddle's attention for me. I'll handle the Basilisk, just keep Riddle at bay. I am in no position to fight both of them at the same time."

"What?" Daniel's body was quivering. "N-No, I-I can't, I couldn't!"

"Yes you can! You're a Potter, aren't you? So show him that! I know you've been training by yourself during summer in our mansion's basement. Now, put your training to the test." Daniel had a surprised expression on his face. "I'll cast a spell that will immensely assist you in your duel." Harry tapped his wand on his brother's forehead and murmured a short incantation. Daniel felt a rush, and suddenly his body was light, lighter than anything. "That spell was to make your body as agile as a feather caught in the wind. Now you can avoid any spell he throws at you. If you force him to keep using magic, I think we can delay him from sucking Weasley's life force. But don't worry, he won't risk his existence by using extremely powerful spells. I saw earlier that his image wavered when he cast the unforgivable. Let me finish my fight with the Basilisk then we'll find how to destroy Riddle. Ready?" Daniel nodded his head, determination now radiating on his face. "Alright, whatever you do, don't look back. Just concentrate on your fight and don't try to aid me. A tip, sometimes conjuring things is the best way to defend yourself against spells. It doesn't matter if the quality of the object is poor, so long as there is something impeding the spell from reaching you. Good luck, brat."

Harry clutched the back of Daniel's robes and, without warning, he chucked him in Riddle's direction. Discounting the shouts of protest from his brother, he launched multiple verbal spells at the Basilisk. "That's right, pretty! You're fighting me!" Harry blinked his eyes at that simple mistake. "I-I mean ugly!"

* * *

><p>Daniel couldn't believe how weightless he felt as his body was tossed by his brother. His body glided on the slippery floor towards Riddle. Recovering instantly, he hurled a spell at Riddle. The ghostly figure, however, wasn't bothered by this at all as he brandished Ginny's wand up and down. Daniel spun around, avoiding the spell. He dipped his body down when another zoomed past him.<p>

"Dueling me has no meaning, Potter. No matter how powerful your spells, you could not harm me. Your eyes may see that I have a body, but I am not solid, not physically capable of something as mortal as injury."

Daniel inhaled a deep breath, hearing the roar of the Basilisk. "I take my earlier words back."

Riddle angled his head to the side, interested. "What's that, Potter?"

"My brother is the greatest wizard of all. He would whip your butt if he had the chance. Dumbledore..." He hoisted his head up, chestnut brown eyes solemn. "...is not...he's not a saint, and that's the reality I learned from my brother. He is just like me, a magical being. And so are you... All of us are the same..."

Riddle sneered. "Don't compare me to you, Potter. Don't group us in the same category. Do you admire your brother so much? He's just a boy. I doubt he could last more than a minute against me if I was at my full power."

"Oh please..." Daniel sidestepped a curse from Riddle. "Not now, maybe. But in the future you'll find that he's unstoppable opponent. In the years to come, you mark my words, Voldemort, even if you have countless followers by your side, no modern wizard will be able beat my brother. He's... different than the rest of us. He doesn't only focus on magic. He's balanced in terms of things magic and non-magic."

"Rubbish!" Riddle flung curses again and again. Daniel jumped, ducked and did his best, not letting a single curse crash into him. "Do you really think your brother is all that, Potter?" Riddle cried, not stopping his relentless barrage. "He's nothing more than a pest to me, and you're just a nuisance! After the Basilisk is finished with your brother, you'll be next. And both of your graves will be this very chamber! Just you wait!" Daniel's body was now on the ground, and Riddle dispatched one of his powerful curses.

A poor boulder was conjured and the spell blew it to pieces instead. "If I've learned one thing from my brother… it's to never give up and that anything is possible if you work hard at it. If there is still light, I won't lose hope." Riddle was trembling in rage at this and saw Daniel had raised his wand. The younger Potter was breathing heavily as he rose up. "Nothing is impossible, not even beating you..." Daniel grinned exhaustedly.

Riddle emitted a snarl-like sound as he straightened his stance, now deadly serious. "We shall see about that. I may not be in my best form, but I'll show you the meaning of fear and power, Potter."

* * *

><p>Sliding under the Basilisk, he scarcely escaped its snapping jaws. Harry snarled a spell and it hit the snake's thick, magically enforced skin, not affecting the creature at all. The Basilisk rushed at Harry. He stood up and leaped forward, narrowly avoiding the Basilisk yet again. Circling his body around, he confronted the snake, breathing heavily. No matter how many spells and curses he hurled, the damn snake remained firm. Not only that, the Basilisk was lightning-quick, and Harry couldn't afford to make even the simplest mistake when dodging any of its assaults. If one of its teeth sunk into him, that would be the end. He might be able to survive any damage inflicted upon the surface of his body, but not the poison. He had no means to counter it.<p>

Concentrating hard on the image of a rooster, Harry swished his hand. The rooster appeared itself in between him and the Basilisk. The rooster opened its beak and started to crow loudly. The Basilisk just hissed at it, unaffected by the sound. With a movement of lighting, the huge snake swallowed the rooster wholly. Harry's jaws hardened, foolishly think that the rooster will fatal the Basilisk. He forgot that this is Slytherin's pet. Salazar would be sure to have taken in the consideration of its kind's weakness and dealt it.

He was struggling very hard against the huge snake, and the Basilisk could instinctively sense it. The beast bared its fangs, exhibiting how sharp and large they were. Harry quickly cast a lethal spell, aiming inside its mouth. If he could not damage its exterior critically then the inside would have do. Unfortunately for Harry, the Basilisk moved its head to the side at the last moment. Harry clenched his left hand tightly, gritting his teeth. He had underestimated the Basilisk and that was his fatal mistake. Harry realized what he was challenging was no ordinary Basilisk as this one knew how to fight, with or without its reason. It was trained to be deadly in duels, especially against wizards.

Damn Salazar! What was he trying to accomplish, keeping a Basilisk under a castle full of innocent children? Not to mention training it!

Harry knew from conversations with the old man that Salazar, like the other three founders, loved Hogwarts and its students without caring about the status of their blood. So Harry was at a loss as to why Salazar would do such things and create such monster. Dismissing his thoughts, he back-flipped his body as the Basilisk lunged for him at a rapid speed. Its head crashed into the floor powerfully. Harry guarded his face with both of his hand as stones, pebbles, and dust went flying. As a result, there was a hole on the floor the size of its massive head. The snake poised to strike again, hissing for Harry's defeat.

Furthermore, mused Harry in the midst of the battle, the skin of this snake was seriously dissimilar to any normal Basilisk. It was obvious that Salazar had done something to it.

Out of desperation, Harry launched more complex and powerful spells. Even though Harry had injured it, it wasn't enough. Its skin was thicker and more capable of withstanding powerful spells. Now, Harry experienced firsthand at the power of one of the founders. This Basilisk might even be Salazar's greatest project. It was the best weapon there is, in terms of both defense _and_ offence. Harry was struck with a thought. Defense? His eyes widened. "That's it! Defense! This Basilisk wasn't meant to purge the school of Muggleborns! It was meant for defending the castle from any enemie-"

He was cut off when something hard and heavy collided with his body and he was thrown to the wall. Harry gasped in pain, blood spurting from his mouth and coating his chin. He could've sworn he heard his bones fracture from hitting the wall so hard. The wall cracked at the impact of Harry's body - the Basilisk had swiped its tail so fast that Harry didn't have time to elude it. Its tail remained pressed roughly against Harry's body, pinning him to the wall. He laid his hands on the scales in front of him, pushing the snake's body shakily. It just hissed, almost taunting him. It then removed its tail from Harry and his body descended to the ground.

It didn't take long before something heavy battered him from behind, smashing him to the ground in his midair falling. There was a sickening crash. Harry coughed more blood. He couldn't move his body, it was far too from the heavy damage he received. Blood streamed down his face, spurting from the back of his skull. His head was throbbing painfully. His heart felt like something was squashing it. His muscles were screeching in pain. His sight blurred red. The taste of his own blood was metallic on his tongue. The Basilisk's tail was on top of him, crushing his body.

He had clearly underestimated the Basilisk. No normal beast could fight like that, catching its opponent completely off guard. It was merciless. This proved he had a long way to go to match up to the skill of the founders, and much further to catch up to the old man. His wand vibrated gently in his hand, as if telling him to not give up. He gripped it in weak gratitude as he struggled to stand up despite the Basilisk's tail on his back. It was futile - the snake was too heavy and too strong. The Basilisk pressed its tail down more, pushing Harry to the ground.

He couldn't defeat it. It was too much for him. This was something he could not overcome, something he should have fled, not challenged. Harry felt his body dig deeper to the ground. The crack on the ground grew bigger and bigger, and so did the pain. It became unbearable, not possible to endure any longer. He would faint, he was confident of it . His vision was already growing shadowy. Regardless of how many times Harry blinked his eyes to adjust his sight, it was hopeless. At a slow but steady pace, his world reduced to darkness. Fear, the fear he had always fought so hard to keep out of his life, now conquered his emotions.

Thump.

It was his heartbeat.

Thump.

He was going to die.

Thump.

He should never have come here, yet he did.

Thump.

Should he give up now?

Thump. Thump. Thump.

No. The answer was obvious. Life is precious. Throwing it away without putting up a fight was akin to committing suicide. He would carry on pushing 'till he drew his last and final breath. Eyes snapped open in an instant. Hands flew to the ground and he struggled to raise his body up. It took all of his willpower, but he budged the tail just enough for him to escape, rolling his body out of the way. On his feet, he was then mercilessly swatted like a bug by another fierce assault from the Basilisk's tail. With eyes closed, Harry wheezed out another jet of blood and his expression was one of anguish.

Smashing onto the ground, his body rolled around for a while before coming to a halt, supine and immobile. The Basilisk promptly opened its mouth wide and prepared to snatch him up in his jaws. Harry lay still, and just as the Basilisk drew in, he cast a powerful cutting curse inside its mouth. The snake howled in excruciating pain, throwing its head up in the air and thrashing violently. Harry called upon his magic to help him stand up once more and hopped backwards, creating a great distance between him and the Basilisk. But he wasn't conscious that he was rapidly approaching Riddle and his brother.

* * *

><p>Back to the duel, Daniel knew his chances of winning were rapidly waning, but his priority was to distract Riddle's attention for as long as he possibly could. Riddle suddenly glanced sideways at the Basilisk. A mixture of anger and astonishment stretched over his face, quickly turning to rage at the realization that the Potter brothers had just demonstrated they were an unbeatable duo. Hurling a curse in Daniel's direction, he forced him to jump. Riddle immediately charmed the floor on which Daniel landed to be more slippery. This caught Daniel by surprise as he frantically balanced himself, trying to keep from falling.<p>

And that was the fatal slip-up. Riddle accurately blasted Daniel's wand arm with a powerful curse. Riddle could sense his image wavering when he did that but he didn't care now. Daniel howled in agony, the throbbing in his arm so painful that he had to liberate his wand. Riddle flicked his wand, aiming for one of his legs this time. Daniel had no choice but to crumple to the ground, grinding his teeth furiously at the pain and repressing the tears that welled in his eyes. He desperately clung to consciousness, wishing he could have carried out the task his brother set him. Nonetheless, his vision faded to black.

* * *

><p>Clasping his left hand over his heart, Harry wobbled a bit on his two feet, desperately gasping for air. He had a difficult time breathing properly, struggling for each sweet gulp of air. If it weren't for the support of his magic, he would have collapsed to the ground. He could feel blood from the back of his head trickling down, and he was positive a few of his bones have been broken. But if he used the restoration body spell to repair his interior injuries, his magic would drain rapidly. He had already exhausted too much of it, and there was also the Basilisk's gaze. He would die if his magic wasn't protecting his eyes. He had to conserve it. Standing on his two feet and maintaining his golden mystical eyes were already remarkable achievements for him. But now he was at a disadvantage.<p>

Unexpectedly, he was disarmed by someone. He was shocked as his wand flew out of his hand. Looking over his shoulder, a feeling of dread began to surface inside him. His brother was lying on the floor unconscious, blood on his right hand and his left leg. Riddle, on the other hand, was filled with glee as he saw the terror growing in Harry's glowing gold eyes. The boy was strong, but in the end the outcome was the same. He did have to silently applaud the brothers for their outstanding effort, however. He expected no less from the Potters. Harry's disarmed wand soared through the air and Riddle attempted to catch it in his palm. But as he seized it, his smug expression twisted into one of agony.

The wand was scorching his hand, even his spirit form did not protect him from the searing temperature. Tendrils of smoke curled out of his hand and he had to release the wand as he hissed in pain. Eyeing the peculiar white wand lying on the ground, his eyes broadened as he detected the wand's magical aura. Riddle stepped back from it and then looked at its owner, mentally concurring grudgingly with his other enemy's statement. The elder Potter would indeed be a formidable enemy in the years to come. To ensure he would never be defeated, both brothers must die tonight.

The hissing jolted Harry to his senses and he dashed instinctively to his brother. He barely registered another incoming attack from the Basilisk. As Harry neared his brother, he slipped on the slick stone floor and fell to the ground. He had no wand to summon his magic. If he applied wandless magic then his _Mystic Eyes_ would falter and no matter how slight the slip of magic, the Basilisk would be granted an opportunity to kill him instantaneously. He was too weak, both magically and in terms of his bruised and bloody physical state. He closed his eyes serenely, resigning to his fate. He was a failure. He couldn't save anyone, even after years of training with the greatest wizard of all time.

What was the point in having power if he couldn't save anyone? If he was meant to die in here then so shall it be. This was it... At least he had figured out why Salazar kept the Basilisk in the castle. It was for defending it and Harry truly believed that. Salazar had just made a mistake, thinking the Basilisk would always protect the school and not destroy it. Harry felt a peaceful presence nearby, and then he was wrenched from his internal musings by a heavy thud, sound of metal clanking to the ground. He opened his eyes, the Sorting Hat perched on the floor beside him. There was something inside it and…was that the hilt of a sword?

"Harry Potter…" The whisper seemed to be coming from the hat. "Thank you for not thinking ill of one of the founders and having the faith to believe he was a great person to the very end. For that, may the power of Gryffindor assist you in this battle. Pull this sword from me, and only then shall you able to slay Slytherin's beast. The power of one founder can only be matched by the power of another. Quickly now."

Grasping the jeweled hilt, Harry swiftly extracted the sword from the hat, a rush of adrenaline surging through him. Turning around, he slashed in the Basilisk's direction when it drew closer to him. Straight away, it retracted from the sword. Harry rose up, bravely standing against the Basilisk and deciding to risk some magic. "_Restituo meus somes!_" His fatigue was now restored, he could breathe properly again and his bones mended together. The spell repaired what was inside of him, though it didn't restore the outside of his body. His magic was dangerously low and the only thing he could do no was hinder the Basilisk's murderous gaze from killing him.

But this did not matter to Harry, in his hands was the sword of Gryffindor. This time, he was the one who lunged at the enormous snake and with a roar, he sliced its skin. He cracked a huge grin when a burst of blood erupted from where the sword cut into the snake. Harry soared backwards, swinging the sword while still in the air and it contacted the snake's head. A furious sound emerged from the Basilisk, a mad hissing directed at Harry. It recoiled yet again. Sensing something dangerous coming his way, Harry looked over his shoulder only to see a jet of green light glaringly sprinting towards him. He knew at that instant he needed to evade the spell. It was the killing curse. Harry's eyes widened, and with a shocking lurch, he realized he would not have enough time to sidestep it.

Out of nowhere, a large boulder materialized in front of Harry. The spell hit the boulder instead, disintegrating it into pieces. Astounded and definitely amazed, Harry turned to the source of the magic. It was his brother. Daniel's back was to him, his wand in his left hand. His right hand and left leg were drenched in blood. Harry blinked rapidly, marveling at his brother's effectiveness with a wand when he knew he was right-handed, not left-handed. On top of that, his little brother had just conjured a perfectly solid boulder, the size of which was far from average - it was huge.

"Don't worry, Harry…" Daniel comforted amidst his heavy breathing, now fully motivated. "You just focus on the Basilisk… I'll cover your back and deal with Riddle… Finish it off and claim your victory…"

"You really are a Potter, brat…" With that final remark, Harry rashly tackled the Basilisk with a ferocity he never knew he had in him.

"Of course, I am…" Daniel scoffed, heaving for air. "Come on, Riddle! You're not disposing of me that easily!"

Flustered, Riddle cried out in rage as he sent multiple curses Daniel's way. The younger Potter raised his wand. He quickly conjured a long table, halting the three curses at the same time. Banishing the splintered wooden remains, he glowered at Riddle. "Don't underestimate me! Even if I can't use my right hand, I can still use my wand with my left one!"

"Then die!" Green light speedily hastened to Daniel.

Daniel, knowing he didn't have enough time to conjure anything, just dove to the ground, grunting in pain at the jarring impact. Riddle's image was now wavering more than the usual. He was itching to kill the younger Potter but restrained himself, knowing that if he let his anger best him, he would vanish after a furiously casting a few more powerful spells. For now, he opted for observation. It wasn't like they were capable of injuring him. Seeing Riddle lower Ginny's wand, Daniel did the same. Nonetheless, he did not let his guard down. The rest was up to his brother now. It didn't take long before loud shrieks resonated in the chamber.

The Basilisk raced past them both, waving its head aggressively in the air. Daniel's breath hitched as he realized Harry was on Basilisk's neck, one hand clinging to the snake and the other clutching a sword. Harry was cringing every now and then, but did not let go of the Basilisk. Daniel saw large gashes all over the snake's skin, the source of which was none other than the glinting sword. The Basilisk was now carrying both of them to Slytherin's gigantic statue. Harry comprehended what it was trying to do, the snake wanted to retreat back to its hole, shaking him off in the process.

Even if instinct had taken over the Basilisk, it still sure as hell knew how to battle. "Not gonna happen, you piece of shit!" Hauling himself up on the Basilisk's head just in time, Harry hoisted the sword over his head in both hands. He plunged it into the large, venomous snake, thrusting it forcefully deeper and deeper. The Basilisk shrieked in agony. It staggered, keeling over sideways and then slumping into the pool of slimy water. Harry latched onto it, holding firm even as it descended to the ground. Verifying that it wasn't twitching or moving, Harry confirmed it was dead.

Putting a foot on the serpent's head, Harry pulled the sword out, blood smeared all over the cool metal. Trudging his legs tiredly, he emerged from the dirty water and approached his brother. Carelessly slackening his grip on the sword, he dropped it to the ground. His eyes now converted back to their familiar emerald color. He wiped the sweat and blood from his face, breathing heavily. He gazed his brother and smirked, still panting. "You look awful, brat..."

"Bet I look better than you. Look at yourself, you're a complete mess..."

"I have to say, you were quite impressive. Not many people are capable of using their wand in both hands including myself. Not too bad on your transfiguration either. You're your father's son, alright... He's a natural and a master of the subject..."

Daniel grinned and, for a moment, forgot the pain in his right hand and left leg. His brother's compliment shone through it all. Harry shifted his attention to Riddle. "Well, looks like you're the only one left, Riddle. And if you're thinking that I'm only skilled in magic then you're sadly mistaken. I'm an expert in the art of swordsmanship, as well as hand-to-hand combat..."

"So it seems... And if you're thinking you have won this fight, then you are also an expert in _naïvety_, Potter..." Riddle smiled coldly before he hissed. &Now, Ssslytherin'sss pet!&

Eyes huge, Harry quickly spun around just in time to see the gaping jaws of the Basilisk about to swallow him whole. Giving a shout of surprise, Harry leapt to the side, attempted to escape the Basilisk at the last minute. It was an excellent reaction, but it still wasn't enough. Harry screamed at the top of his lungs as he felt his entire of his left arm, from his shoulder to his clenching hand, penetrated by many sharp fangs. His eyes flashed to gold, pushing every ounce of magic in his body to his left arm to fortify it from being ripped apart by the Basilisk.

The pain was excruciating, like nothing Harry had ever felt in his life.

The Basilisk, with its mouth tightly closed, drove him towards the wall with the intent of smashing his body painfully into the stone. He bit his lips until he drew blood to stop himself from yelling. With the _Mystic Eyes_, he summoned the sword of Gryffindor. He lifted the sword high in the air and incanted loudly. The sword momentarily lengthened and its effectiveness was boosted significantly. With angry battle cry, Harry gathered all the energy he could muster and swung the sword through the Basilisk's neck. The serpent's head was severed from its body.

With that, Harry crashed to the ground, bringing the head with him. His body twitched, then lay still. His eyes were blank, lacking their usual light. The head was still attached to his left arm, gouts of blood dribbling from the fangs. Daniel hastily tried to help him but had to defend himself when a curse was tossed to his way. Daniel was desperate and alarmed - his brother required immediate medical attention - and the only thing in his way was Riddle. Cold high laughter rang out. Riddle was undeniably delighted.

"Potter, Potter, Potter..." he cooed, eyes glinting. "Your mistake was that you thought you had won. Ah, but you forgotten one important thing… This Basilisk is Salazar Slytherin's pet. It is no ordinary snake, it's cunning, you see... It was just waiting for you to drop your guard and when I gave my order, it was already poised to strike. It was its last attempt and it wanted to take your life before it died. Though it's incredible how you tried to avoid it in the last minute. But it does not matter that you have indeed slain the Slytherin monster. You are dead..."

Harry barely heard Riddle's mocking tone of voice but could he make out all the words. He was slowly dying and he knew that. The poison was coursing throughout his body. Though it didn't really matter if the poison swept through him, he was going to die either way. The blood that he had lost was too much for his body to handle, and there was no way it could be replenished. If his brother somehow found a way to defeat Riddle and then rushed him up to Madam Pomfrey, he would just die along the way. After this realization washed over him, he felt numb and drowsy.

He glanced to Daniel and then to the Gryffindor sword that lay on the ground. It had reverted back to its normal form.

Weakly kicking the sword, it glided to Daniel. "Destroy him... through the source..."

Daniel jolted and his eyes glued to the particular diary lying at the feet of Slytherin's giant statue. Dropping his wand, he picked up the sword, he rushed to the little book. "No! Stay away from that diary, Potter!" Riddle panicked. He launched multiple curses at Daniel, the killing curse among the plethora of spells. Blinded by rage, Daniel instinctively deflected a few flashes of magic with the sword and let the rest past him. He gripped the hilt with both hands, still running. He disregarded the vicious throbbing pain in his limbs, reminding himself that his brother was in a great deal more pain in contrast to him.

Not providing Riddle with any more chances to cast spells, Daniel raised the heavy sword and plunged it into the diary. Ink gushed out of the book, covering the floor in a flood of obsidian blood. Riddle screamed in torment, a loud and piercing wail. He was flailing and writhing in every direction, and he glared at Daniel one last time while cursing him again and again. Nevertheless, once his eyes landed on Harry's fallen motionless form, the scream changed to full blown laughter. With one last desperate insult to Daniel's inability to save people especially his brother, he was gone. Daniel hurtled to his brother's side, the sword clattering to the stone floor.

"Harry, hey!"

The older Potter positioned his right hand on the Basilisk's fangs. Using the last bit of his magic, he struggled to detach his left arm from its mouth. With a tormented cry, he successfully opened the jaws and dragged his tortured limb out of the mouth. A few fangs splintered from the Basilisk and remained on Harry's left arm. Both brothers could see the many gruesome huge holes in his arm, deep puncture wounds given to him by the Basilisk. Even his shoulder had a couple sharp fangs sunken into it. "Don't..." Harry weakly prohibited his brother from removing them. "There's a chance... the poison will infect you..." By himself, Harry extracted them one by one. He couldn't feel his left arm now, blood still streaming out of it. He coughed when he felt his lungs smoldering, his whole body convulsing with each expulsion of air.

"H-hey, stay awake!" Daniel said shakily when Harry's eyes almost flickered shut. "I-I'll get us out! So don't you dare close your eyes! You'll be okay!"

Harry's vacant gaze twirled to his brother, distantly watching the tears pouring out of Daniel's eyes. Now, his vision was all blurry, and it was getting foggier by the second. Everything around him was darkening. If this was dying, he thought, then it wasn't so bad at all. Though he couldn't deny the regret that filled his heart. He had so many questions and so many things he wished to do in his life, yet this was it for him. His journey had now come to a conclusion. He hated that he couldn't clear up the many mysteries of his life. Why him of all people? Why he was chosen by the old man? Sadly, those questions would forever remain unanswered.

The faces of the Greengrass' swirled in his mind, and he realized he would miss them unbearably. In the four years he had known them, they had become like his own real family. He was comforted by Lady Greengrass as a son would be by a mother. He felt protected with Lord Greengrass as a son would feel with a father. And he was as protective of Astoria as a brother would be to his little sister. Hs breathing began to labor and falter more and more… The sound of sobs nearby reached his ears. Harry wanted to chuckle dryly but his throat was burning. It was pitiful.

The last thing he would ever see as he was on the brink of dying was his little brother. But he admitted to himself that the brat was one of the people with whom he regretted leaving things hanging. In spite of how their interactions had been on a few occasions, Harry felt like he now knew who his brother was and was satisfied having to known him. His only regret was that he wouldn't fulfill his role as older brother and get to know Daniel more. At the thought of siblings, a tiny sad smile etched across his lips. Rosaline. He wouldn't get to see his cute baby sister grow up and be there for her, also playing the role of overprotective brother in relation to young male suitors.

Lastly, his biggest regret lay with his parents.

He confessed silently to himself that he loved them like any child would. And, if fate was willing to give him one more chance to repair the deep wound that ran between them, he'd happily accept it. He would try so hard to forgive his mother and father. He ought to know better than to dream of changing the past, but he did it anyway. He had foolishly professed in the past few years that he hated them, yet that was all false. All the happy memories he had with his parents when he was little were some of the things in his life that he cherished the most. And all this time he had denied his parents the affection they deserved, especially his mother. But he was just uncomfortable with them. If he could only choke back the awkwardness, he could by then have some kind of confrontation with his parents and they could finally become a family again.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

His heart was beating unbearably slowly. Four girls floated to his mind, all of them smiling beautifully at him, and his lips lifted faintly at the image, a wave of reassurance sweeping over him. "I'm sorry..." Harry mumbled before the weariness dominated him and eyes shut, his mind falling to darkness. His ears were deaf to his brother shouting out for him. His heart beat one last time and he released his final breath.

* * *

><p>Three girls jolted from their sleep. Anxiety was etched on each of their faces, and they instantly forgot the drowsiness as they were overwhelmed by a sudden surge of emotion. What was that all about? All three were together, having snuck down from their respective dormitories to the infirmary to visit Callista and having decided to sleep in the infirmary with their stone-like friend.<p>

"D-Did you all feel that?" Sheila asked.

"You mean you felt that too, Jonnet?" Daphne inquired uneasily. Sheila nodded her head. "What about you, Regine? Did you?"

"Yes..." Regine was concerned. "It felt like I had just lost something very precious to me."

"Exactly! That's the sensation I had!" Sheila exclaimed.

"Daphne, what do you think that was all about?"

"I have no idea, Regine." Nibbling her bottom lip, her eyebrows furrowed together. "I have a bad feeling that something terrible has just happened somewhere..."

"I don't like this," Sheila said. "It feels like I'm…hollow..."

The other two readily agreed with her words, it was the best description they could come up with. But whatever could this mean? They all traded glances of apprehension.

A tear slipped from Callista's petrified eyes…


	18. Chapter 17, Season 2

**Chapter 17.**

It was a complete and utter silent. Little by little, he regained his consciousness and the first thing came to him was total darkness. He was lying on some surface, something flat, just flat. He had a sense of touch, therefore the thing in which his body lay on really existed. As soon as that part of him came to his senses, he wondered if he could see since he could feel. In accordance to it, he worked his way to opening his eyes. His sight was all blurry at first and he had to flutter his eyes rapidly to regulate his vision.

He glanced from right to left, realizing the position he was in as he lay face down. Unhurriedly, he sat upright, feeling his body tense at every movement even if he appeared to be unscathed. Looking around, he was in some sort of place where there was only white from one end to another. He put a great effort into remembering why he was here. But, he cringed as a fierce assault stabbed his brain. It would seem his memories were all jumbled up since he couldn't recall who he was. It would take a while for him to recuperate his memories.

For the first time ever, he discerned his attire. The long sleeved v-neck shirt - he was wearing - and the trousers enveloped the lower region of his body. Both of them were pure white, the texture of the material was so smooth and silk. His feet were bared, however. He winced, placing his hands on his head at the sharp interference. After a while, he looked up, now recovering every bit of his memories. What he still didn't understand was how he arrived to this, all around white area. He shouldn't have been here. He tried to revoke back his last memory but was rebuffed. Now, he was perplexed. Was this one of the old man's practical jokes? He shook his head. This was too big, even for the old man.

Standing up, he was astonished to see a very large number of people lining up and walking expressionlessly in the same direction. He noted their clothes were very similar to his. Not knowing what to do, he approached one of them, a woman, and attempted to attain any information from her regarding to where he was. But, he was disregarded as if he didn't exist at all. The woman just looked oddly at him and brushed past him. Now, he was more confounded than ever. Gazing up ahead, he didn't know where these people were heading but he participated, nonetheless.

After what it seems like, seconds, minutes and even hours to him, he could identify there was a one-lane bridge up ahead that led to another place. It was the most unusual bridge he ever saw. The bridge was so thin. Anyone who traveled to the other side would fall in just a few steps. It was thinner than any strings. He didn't think it would be feasible for anyone to walk on it. Lost in his own little world, he bumped into someone's back. Rubbing his red sore nose, he mumbled an apology but paused as the person in front of him just ignored him, continued muttering anxiously to himself, something about the sins he perpetrated and whatever it was.

Clearing his tangle of thoughts, he was on his toes, trying to make out why they stopped all of a sudden.

His eyes went huge as there was a tall figure at the very front of the crowds, halting them all from using the bridge. The figure's appearance didn't seem unusual or terrifying. It was a human with large sculpture wings on its back, dressed in very strange white clothes. It appeared not to be frightening but the presence it radiated was compelling him with the desire to be far away from the figure. Whoever or whatever it was, it was not one to mess with. The crowd he's in, entered another long line, most likely waiting for the tall figure to call them one by one.

He waited patiently and he naturally thought it would take a very long time for his turn, considering it was such a long line. It would take days or months even. Before he knew it, he was already in front of the tall figure. "Name?" its voice boomed.

Unconsciously, he gulped down his swollen throat. "H-Harry…"

"Harry who?" it boomed again.

Now, he was alarmed.

"Harry…" Like a bulb illuminated on his head, he answered it properly "…Potter, Harry James Potter."

The figure checked the list on its large hands - if Harry even deemed it to be hands to begin with. That huge hand could squash him like a pitiful insect. "Name is not on the list thus cannot pass… Next."

"Wait… what?"

Peeking over his shoulder, Harry politely moved away from his spot, halfheartedly consenting another person to take his spot. Now, he was beyond confused. Where must he go from here on out? He didn't even know why he was here in the first place. He grumbled, his personality has now been fully restored to him. If he would be bold enough, he ought to ask the tall figure some questions he had in mind and be done with it.

"You there…" His ears perked at the soft feminine tone. Was it calling out for him? "The fella with pretty features on his face and alluring emerald eyes…" Whoever that was, the description didn't match him. He didn't have pretty features on him. He blinked his eyes rapidly. Weren't his eyes emerald? There were soft chuckles. "Yes, you, my dear child. I am speaking to you…"

Harry turned to the source and was slightly stunned that there were benches nearby. Why hadn't he noticed them before? In spite the fact there were benches, only one person sat on them. Harry's eyes traced to the person and distinguished it to be a lady. She was wearing a white gown. As he drew closer to the woman, he felt his heart skip a beat and his cheeks heated at an alarming rate. His mouth slightly parted, shamelessly gaping at the lady. Harry couldn't help it. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever encountered in his life. In contrast to his best friends, they wouldn't hold a candle to this woman, including Daphne.

Any beautiful women and girls he had stumbled across in his life could not be compared to this lady. She was ten times more beautiful than them combined, not even Veelas could evaluate their beauties with hers. She was magnificently breathtaking. With her shiny black hair flowed down silkily, her dazzling slight deadly predatory black orbs eyes, smooth porcelain unblemished skin, face was of aristocratic princess likeness and a gentle smile that could light up the dark side of the moon, Harry was in a row of disbelief such person existed. He couldn't take his eyes off her at all.

He pinched his own arm, hard and grumbled loudly. There is no way he had a crush on her, just by eying the lady for the first time ever. Where were his manners? The lady chuckled more tenderly at his reaction. Harry scowled at this. "Why don't you have a seat next to me, my dear? I am sure you are very confused. Come…" Her hand patted the seat next to her. Harry complied without much of a choice.

"Where am I exactly?" Harry asked, shades of red still coated his cheeks.

"This here..." She gestured the place with her arm. "...is a plane that is far away from the world you are so familiar with."

"What do you mean?"

The smile on her face was gentler than her previous smile. "My dear, this is where people go to after they've died…"

"W-what!" His heart dropped and his stomach did a somersault, gurgling.

She smiled more. "You can say this is a realm that is in-between of life and the afterlife. A plane existing for where you are to be judged, whether you are worthy to ascend to heaven or descend into pits of hell... It all depends on what you did in your life…"

"If you do not believe me, then observe those people who cross that bridge." Harry looked at the unusual bridge and perceived one person marching on it peacefully without any efforts or worries. "The person shows he never committed any sins in his life, whether the sins are large or small. If he reached to the other side, he will be taken to heaven. By what means, I do not know." Next is a person, whom was very anxious with his body quivering all over, prepared to take a step on the bridge.

Harry recognized the person. He had bumped the guy's back really hard earlier. After a mere few steps, the guy wobbled and fell down. Large wild fire burst from below and incinerated the person wholly. Harry could feel the heat from where he was even though the fire was distance away from him. "The person proves he had executed many sins in his life. He did not scorch to ashes nor die when the fire consumed him. It merely dragged him down to hell for him to acquire the punishments he rightfully deserved… There will be a possibility he'd be forgiven and might be offered heaven. To do so, one must endure the punishments for the sins they had done in their previous life."

Like any person, he refused to believe everything what she had just said. Nonetheless, after all the things he witnessed, he took it rather well. He inhaled a deep breath and exhaled it accordingly, pacifying his emotions from going on a rampage. Now, the dreaded question was how he died?

"It will sink to you, child…" The same soft voice interjected his thoughts.

Harry grimaced as another ache clobbered his head. Flash of fangs gnawed his left arm and his torment screams rang out in his head. Subsequent to this, he inspected his left arm meticulously. It was intact, no revolting huge or small holes on it. Concentrating on the memory hard, the scene replayed in his mind and he sighed forlornly once he recollected every bit of it.

"I am dead…" Harry stared blankly his feet. "Well, so much for power… I wonder if my next journey will be in heaven or hell..." Harry wasn't a fool to not pick up the lady's earlier expressions. "So what crimes have you made in your life?"

"My, my…such impressive perception." She chortled lightheartedly. "Would you believe my words if I enlightened you that you are very similar to a person I once knew? Solely from appearance only, my dear, nothing more. He even had the same enticing emerald eyes as yours. Conversely, I very much doubt this person was similar to your personality. He was a strong man, too strong that most of his enemies feared him and fled at the sight of him."

"Um…ma'am…" Harry started off awkwardly. "Forgive my rudeness, but I don't know you that well… So, I have no idea if I should trust you or your words…."

"I supposed…" She smiled charmingly, causing Harry to blush uncharacteristically. There was something in regards to her smile that reminded Harry of a very creepy old man. It's the exact smile but induced a different effect on Harry. If the old man was to smile at him like that, Harry would undeniably scoff at it. "Would it bother you to hear a little tale from this lady?"

"No, not at all, ma'am. I am in no hurry."

"Oh, silly me, of course you are not in a hurry." She giggled slightly. By this point on, Harry discovered his feet to be fascinating due to an uncontrollable blush on his face. Everything she did was so gracious to him that he could not help but act like a pathetic schoolboy who had a massive crush on her. "Will it be acceptable if I begin?"

"Y-yes, go on, I'm all ears."

"Thank you…" She was really thankful. "It has been such long time since I had an opportunity to strike a proper conversation with someone." She heaved a lonely sigh. "As you have guessed, I have executed countless appalling sins and some might not considered to be easily forgiven. Make no mistake, I am truly ashamed for what I have done in my previous life."

"Oh?" Harry was taken aback. This gorgeous lady beside him had just informed him of many wrongdoings she had done.

"Have you-" He gulped. "-received your punishments?"

"Yes…" For one who had been in hell before, she was calmed. "It was justice and I earned all of it…"

"Why did you do it? I mean, why you did those sins?"

"It was mostly out of jealousy and hatred…" She prompted. "In my time, there was always war brewing from many sides. The country I lived in was continually condemned with wars, leaders threatening war and much more... It is not a country one chose to live in peacefully. It was extraordinary that a king in my period was able to repel and win every single battle with his armies. He fought against the invasion of many foreigners, barbarians and rebellions..."

"I take it you're the last option?"

"Yes, quite right..." She smiled sadly. "I was a fool, really... I only had one goal in mind at that time. It was revenge I seek and so, I sought for power. My half-sister lured me into such power, desiring my abilities for her own gains and vengeance against the king. I even murdered my own father who cared for me from the time I was a child... In truth, the king was my other half-brother and we shared the same father..." Harry didn't repress his shock from her. "In just a few years, I had assembled enough armies to wage gruesome war against the king. Most of my soldiers comprised of those who had magic within them. After long years of war, the king triumphed over his enemies including I... But by the time he did so, I had lost everything, it was over for me... I cannot undo the past I had imposed upon myself, the innocent lives I had taken... I was blinded by my hatred too much. Nevertheless, I am satisfied..."

"Why?" he whispered, baffled. If Harry was in her position, he would be miserable.

A wide smile wrapped its way around her jaws and there are slight tears in her eyes. "I died in the arms of my love... I could not be happier than being in his arms during my last moments. Amongst the things I regret most was that we could not be together. We were both on different sides, you see. His loyalty and friendship with the king was what prevented him from being with me. It was out of remorse, sympathy, selfishness and mostly out of my love for him that I persuaded him endless times to side with me, but his answer remained firm. He was a very stubborn man and true to his word of honor to the very end. Dying by his hands even though it broke his heart deeply was the most suitable punishment for me, even if it was unfair for him... He was also my soul mate..." Harry's eyebrows shot up, vanishing through his hairline. "Our soul united as one. I was bonded to him as he was bonded to me. You can imagine how difficult it was for us to see each other on a battlefield."

Harry heard her sigh for the second time. It was a lot to take in, though he didn't detect anything but sincerity from her. "Are you waiting for him?"

"Yes, I am... I have served my sentence for a very long time and now, I have been released and forgiven. I was offered a place in heaven, but I adjourned it in favor of waiting for my love." She situated both of her hands on her heart, smiling. "I had died, yet I could still feel the connection the two of us shared. It lingers inside me. My heart flutters at the thought of him."

Harry averted his awareness away from her and leaned back. "So, the moral of this story is that revenge is useless and hatred could only lead to disaster."

She turned to him, smiling more. "More or less, my dear. Sometimes, it is best to let go of the past and dream of a better future. Clinging the past is what makes every great man and lady fall. You will find nothing but despair at the end of your life if you pursuit revenge and cloud yourself with hatred. You cannot step backward, yet you can only step forward, even if the steps you take are little steps."

Harry nodded, memories of his parents sparked to his mind. "Thank you... I'll try my best to never forget those words. I hope you will be reunited with your love."

"No, it is I who should be grateful. You have given me a chance to have a conversation with you."

"Why is it such a big deal?" Like lightning struck his head, he stuttered, "W-wait the minute!" Harry's broaden eyes darting to hers. "Judging from your story, it is likely you lived in the past!" Harry gave a little shake of his head. "I meant, you lived in the medieval times! That's like a thousand and five hundred years from my time! How come you still haven't met your love?" Harry demanded. "Who is your soul mate? More importantly, who are you?"

She chuckled softly. "You are wise for your age, Harry Potter. Both mine and my lover's identity will come to you. Time will tell, child..."

"You know my name…" Harry breathed. "How did you know my name?"

She smiled enchantingly. A smile that terribly reminded Harry of the old man. "It looks like your time here is up, my dear."

"W-what do you me-" He felt dizzy all of the sudden, feeling like he was being pulled.

"I knew of your ancestor and fought him a few times..." Harry snapped up. "Do not fight it, child. It is not good to resist it. Go back. There is much to be done."

"W-what do you mean by my ancestor! Who is my ancestor! I have so many questions that needed to be answer!"

"I am very sure you are... The answers you seek will slowly be answered..." The lady stroked his right cheek tenderly. "I am going to warn you of something, Harry Potter. You have something very powerful within you which you have yet to realize and have yet to unravel. It is something you inherited from your ancestor and you are his direct descendant. There is not much time for you. If you cannot solve it and it is too late, then you will be in lament for the remainder of your life and not just you alone, there will be others as well... Do not let the connection be severed... If you solve it, then your real journey will begin from there on... There are others who desire greatly of you and their powers are something that we cannot imagine... Farewell for now, dear child, and may you be blessed with long life prosperity and a good life as well... We will meet again..." She smiled more. "Tell him, tell him I will be waiting for him... Tell him, I love him very much…My love for him never falters, it merely grows…"

"Who...?" was his last question before his spectacles was swarmed by darkness in an instant.

* * *

><p><strong>29 May 1993.<strong>

Harry coughed violently, small amount of blood spewed out from his mouth. He was lying on a hard, slippery floor unlike the soft ground he had just experienced moments ago. He could feel some sort of weird energy entering his body, coursing throughout him. Groaning lowly, he, with a snail pace, unfastened his eyes. Once more, the blurriness was obstructing his sight. He blinked his eyes, adjusting it. He was welcomed with the view of his brother smiling largely, dry tears smeared his cheeks.

"Harry, you're awake! Just a little more and then you'll be all right!"

The pain was leaving him. The heavy burden was lifted from his body. What was happening?

He was recovering at an impossible rate. Any damage on his body was healing and the blood he lost was restored back to him. His eyes now got a clearer view of his surroundings. His eyes flickered to his left arm and he closed one eye when something white blinded him. "Skip?" He was astounded at the presence of the elemental. The holy orb was glowing brightly and brilliantly on him, transferring some of the white light to him. Hundreds of small light rays attached to Harry's body, more on his left arm. He could distinguished the small white lights on the repulsive huge holes were getting smaller, fading away.

The holy orb stopped healing him and slightly flew away from him. Harry sat upright, smiling when he could move his arm. In fact, any previous pain in his body was absolutely gone, the poison and all of it! "You're amazing, you know that, Skip?" The elemental just emanated a strange sound of pride.

"Don't get too cocky on me just because you saved my life, but I owe you one, Skip." Harry smiled, standing up. The elemental emitted more sounds. Harry arched an eyebrow at this. "You're saying the old man sent you to me?" Another positive sound from the elemental. "All right, all right, I'll give him my thanks when I see him the next time. You don't have to be defensive when it comes to him. But, you're the one who saved me, so I should thank you, too."

"Bloody hell..." Daniel spoke for the first time, eyes budged from his brother to the elemental. "You know t-t-this... thing, Harry? And, you understand it?"

"Oy, oy! Watch what you're spouting at!" Harry scowled gallingly. "This _thing_ is an elemental, one of the sacred and powerful magical creatures that has ever roamed in this world. And Skip is a holy elemental, the highest rank of its kind. It is also the rarest amongst any other elementals. Skip takes great offense when people address him like some sort of low ranking creature." The elemental ostensibly agreed to Harry's words. "Furthermore, you should be grateful to ever encounter an elemental, much less a holy elemental, brat. Compared to a phoenix, a holy elemental is much more superior and powerful. It's healing powers cannot be matched by any spells, magic, or any creatures in this world. To top it off, you can't harm it with any kind of magic or kill it. Its existence originated from the purest magic and nature element energy. You're basically invincible if a holy elemental is constantly on your side..." Skip appeared assenting to Harry more. "And the most interesting part about an elemental is it has feelings, intelligence, and personalities like us. As to how I understand it? Well..." Harry shrugged. "Let's just say Skip and I go way back..."

"Wow..." Daniel was truthfully astonished, gawking at Skip. His brother was right. Somehow, Daniel just knew that this holy elemental was much more powerful than Dumbledore's phoenix. Just in the company of the elemental alone, it gave Daniel the same sense of emotions and reactions whenever a phoenix sang. No, it felt much more than the phoenix did.

"Oh, stop it, Skip. You're always like that whenever someone is awed at you. Stop basking the attention too much, it will grow on you." A tiny jet of light zoomed furiously to Harry. Harry ducked his head and rolled his eyes. "Now, you're acting childish..."

"I just have one question. Why does his name is Skip? That's…lame..."

"Some crazy, old geezer named him." He strode his way to his wand.

Bending down, he picked his wand up and smiled. "Thank you..."

For some reason, it didn't vibrate or respond to Harry's words. Harry just smiled and carefully tucked it inside his pocket. His eyes traveled to the Basilisk's form. Its head was separated from its body, the blood seeping all over the floor. His face contorted to a grimace once his eyes shifted to his attire. It was disgusting. His own blood mixed with the Basilisk's and it soaked his own white shirt. Then, came a faint moan at the end of the chamber. The youngest Weasley was stirring. "Skip, put her into a sleep, I don't want her to know I was here."

The elemental did as Harry told and Ginny, once more, was fast asleep. Daniel didn't object, by now, he was familiar to how his brother did things. He just went to snatch his own wand and the Gryffindor sword. Limping to Harry, Daniel presented him with the Gryffindor sword. "You pulled it out, so it rightfully belongs to you."

Harry was tempted to keep it but knew better. "Actually, that's not a good idea." His eyes flickered to his brother's injuries. "Oh, sorry I didn't see that. Skip, would you be kind enough to heal him?" The elemental attended to it.

Daniel was amazed with how quickly it repaired his bloody hand and leg. This time, he felt no pain at all. "Um... thanks..." The elemental simply floated in the air, glimmering majestically. Daniel chuckled nervously in response.

"Like I said, that's not a good idea. I don't want anyone to know I was here. I think you should just take this to Dumbledore."

"B-but Harry, you're the one who slayed the Basilisk! I don't want to take the credit for something I didn't do..."

"How noble of you, brat," Harry said sarcastically. "It's better this way. I really don't want anyone to know what I'm capable of, let alone I was here." Harry civilly handed the sword to his brother. "The Sorting Hat actually offered me the sword out of gratitude. I didn't summon it."

"Still..." Daniel sighed, knowing he won't win the debate with his brother. "Gratitude? What gratitude?"

"Something about 'not thinking ill of one of the founders' and I fairly sure the founder it meant was Salazar Slytherin."

"You're saying that you believe Slytherin to be a good person?" Daniel inquired, shocked. "You've definitely gone barmy, Harry…"

"Well, I always believed Salazar wasn't as evil as you all claimed him to be. I firmly believed he was a great man that made a fatal mistake on hibernating the Basilisk inside the castle. I denied the Basilisk's purpose was to purge the school. I explicitly have faith it was meant to protect the school. I mean, he _was_ one of the founders. He loved this castle as much as the other three founders. The reason why he didn't want Muggle-borns to be in Hogwarts was not because he favored more of the pure-bloods. No, it was for other reason... That age was where magical people like us were hunted by the Muggles. In the founder's age, there were some cases where Muggle-borns had been hung up in a podium and burned to death."

"What?" Daniel was appalled.

"Yes, it was the truth. At that time, Salazar thought it was best for the Muggle-borns to stay hidden so their lives wouldn't be forsaken at such early age. Of course, the other three founders disagreed with his proposal and it caused the supposed feud amongst the founders." Harry strolled to the Sorting Hat. "Salazar wasn't a ridiculous, prejudiced pure-blood who looked down on Muggle-borns. In fact, he never did care about the blood status. He welcomed every magical child to Hogwarts." Harry grabbed the Sorting Hat and twirled his body to his brother. "More than that, did you really think Salazar looked like a monkey? And, do you really think Godric's face was covered with lots of hair that made him look like a lion? Or, Helga was a plump woman? Or, Rowena's face looked more or less like a raven? Come on, use your common sense, brat."

"Then why...?"

"It's to fool their enemies and the Muggles who hunted them," Harry corresponded. "Salazar's idea was to design pictures, images, and statues to puzzle their enemies - though, I have no idea why Salazar made his fake statue in the Chamber of Secrets instead of the real one. If everyone thought the founders looked like that-" Harry pointed at the statue. "-Just think how their enemies would exhaust themselves looking for them. Trust me, even in their time period, their reputation as powerful wizards and witches was greatly known throughout the whole land. Like this, the founders could walk around the land freely if they chose to and their enemies wouldn't recognized them one bit. Salazar's most prominent trait was cunning." Harry, then, chuckled a little. "Though, they truly did forget how to change back into their true appearances and just let all those pictures and statues be like that. Now, it's their fault if people these days think that's how they looked like. If I didn't know better, I'd say they pranked everyone in each generation."

"Did you know how they truly looked like?"

"Yeah." Harry indifferently shrugged. "Someone showed me a book that contains their true appearances. The best description I can put for them is they are four beautiful royal-like people. I can tell you this, though, the color of their eyes matches to the color of their own houses." Harry rounded the Sorting Hat. "Isn't that right, Hat?"

A rip near brim, opened wide like a mouth. "Yes, it is true, Mr. Potter."

"You mean to say all of that is true?" Daniel's eyes were as large as a saucer.

"Yes, Lord Salazar was never what people declared him to be. I know this because part of his self, memories, were copied and transferred to me."

"Then, how come you never said anything about the chamber?" Daniel pressed more.

"Lord Salazar ordered me not to. He feared that once the chamber was known, people would explore it and lives would be at lost if they unleashed the Basilisk. For this exact reason, he sealed the Basilisk with the intention to protect Hogwarts from its enemies and as its last defense, only to be used out of desperation. The Basilisk that Lord Salazar nurtured is no ordinary Basilisk. You two should've known this. It is Slytherin's pet, after all. Lord Salazar was prone to had done something to the Basilisk. It's also immune to rooster's crows."

"As expected from the founders. They're what you call abnormal magical people." Harry nodded his head affirmatively and a look of admiration on his face.

"However, Lord Salazar, like any other person, was bound to make a fatal mistake. For him to seal the Basilisk for such a long time, caused the Basilisk to lose all of its reasons or purpose of its existence." The Sorting Hat paused before twisting to Daniel, still in Harry's hands. "And yes, the founders' appearance matched exactly to what your brother had just said."

"Wow." Daniel took off his glasses and cleaned it mindlessly. "This is a lot to take in. Imagine if we were raised in an environment where you believed what the people said to you and the thought remained for years. Then, the next thing you knew, the truth came crashing down on you."

"It doesn't indicate that everything you hear and see will always be truthful, Mr. Potter. Take this matter into consideration and learn from it. History will, for all time, be mysterious to us all. Only if there is a person to witness the historical event, then we can be certain of the truth from the person." The Sorting Hat swung its attention to the regal looking elemental. "In all my entire being, I had dreamed of meeting an elemental and now it has finally come to that, I must say they are such magnificent creatures..."

"All right, that's enough." Harry donned the Sorting Hat. "Do me a favor and sort me one more time, Hat. I want to know if you can sort me now."

"W-what do you mean by that?" Daniel shuttered a bit.

"Well, no one ever knew this but in my first year, the Sorting Hat didn't know which house to put me in."

"True, true, Mr. Potter. You're the most difficult one amongst all that I had sorted. Now, if you give me a minute…"

Harry looked at his brother. "According to the Sorting Hat, I had what it means to be a Slytherin, my cunning was evident. The hat did tell me I was smart enough to be a Ravenclaw and a hard work to be in Hufflepuff. Also, I could be a Gryffindor when it came to bravery…"

"You're saying you can be in four houses?"

"No… well, yes…" Harry rubbed his chin with his left hand. "But I prefer I have all the traits of four houses."

"B-but it still sorted you to Ravenclaw…"

"Actually… it let me choose…"

"What!"

Harry was amused. "Yes, the Sorting Hat let me decide and it said I was the first person to ever have been granted in choosing which house I wanted to be in. It took me a while to make a decision, but I settled on Ravenclaw and thought it was the best for me."

"Why can't you be in Gryffindor instead?"

Harry puckered his lips. "The thing is, brat, while that house is where I may suit best, that's where everyone expected me to be, isn't it? I don't want to drill their head into thinking that I'll be their hero and save them if the time of peril approaches. If I was in Slytherin, I figured with all the prejudice, they would think of me as some sort of dog to Voldemort, a dark wizard in making and there was no way I could hold my hot head if they kept whispering behind my back and insulting me. Hufflepuff's reputation was greatly tarnished for years already as a place where trash was supposed to be, even though the house is great like any of the other houses. So, that was out as well. Since Ravenclaw was neutral, I opted to be in that house…"

"That's…um, thoughtful…" Daniel asserted hesitantly. It did make sense to him. His brother wasn't the type to be ordered around.

"But, people were usually right about me." Harry contemplated on his words. "Most of the time, I acted like a Slytherin, manipulating the professors to my bidding and exploited any necessary means to win the Quidditch or the House Cup. Otherwise, as a Gryffindor when I do things instinctively, just charged and never consider the consequences or a plan. My housemates always asked me if I was either in Gryffindor or Slytherin. I rarely came across anyone who asked me if I belonged in Hufflepuff. Mostly, that question sprang up when I demonstrated indisputable loyalty to the girls. Though, this semester I continually heard it from my teammates due to my fairness in treating them equally without any favorites. The only time I acted as a true claw was when exams were just around the corner and if I put my entire focus on just observing my surroundings."

Harry smiled a little out of sheepishness. "I'm not what you call a true Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or a Slytherin. Sometimes, my Slytherin side emerged when I wanted to be mischievous. Other times, my Gryffindor side bested my Ravenclaw side, letting my heart win against my logical reasons. From time to time, my Hufflepuff side would simply appear when I stood up for my friends and acted fairly to everyone once I was given responsibility. You can say I'm an 'outsider'."

"Outsider?"

"Yeah, a stranger, more like it. I'm what you call 'an outsider that doesn't complement in any four houses'."

"Indeed, Mr. Potter," the Sorting Hat assented after a minute of silence. "You were exceptionally difficult and now more difficult than ever. It would seem you have grown a lot… I stood by what I said, all the traits of the four houses are all inside you, Mr. Potter… You would have done well in any of the houses." The hat squirmed on Harry's head just a little bit, registering something. "Are you still disrespecting the greatest wizard of all time? And, did you address him as 'old man'?"

Grabbing the point of the hat, Harry pulled it off. "What's _that_ got to do with the Sorting? You promised to never mention my personal life to anyone especially about the old man you're so awed of," Harry groused, grumbling.

"Mr. Potter, you should considered yourself lucky to be chosen-"

Harry shoved his hand onto its mouth and in turn, it produced gagging noise. "That's personal, you scrappy old dusty hat! It's my life and for your information, he's really old so the name 'old man' fits him!" Skip swirled to Harry, making thrilling noises. "Don't lecture me, Skip. I had enough lectures from the old man and it's not your concern as to how I call him. I do whatever the hell I like." Harry pointed his hand threateningly at the elemental. The hand in which he used to point with, was still jammed into the Sorting Hat's mouth. Daniel sweat-dropped at the sight before him.

* * *

><p>Things calmed down after a few minutes.<p>

"Dumbledore's phoenix is about to recover soon so I should leave now," Harry stated, his hands stuffed in his trouser's pockets. "I can't believe it takes that long for the phoenix to recover. Better you than the phoenix, huh, Skip?" The elemental again agreed to his words. "Are you sure you won't tell anyone about me, Hat? I really don't want any unwanted attention."

"Yes, Mr. Potter. You have my word."

"Good enough." Harry nodded his head. "Well, that leaves one more thing." Harry strode to his brother. "That is to give you a fake memory of what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets." Noticing Daniel's frantic look, Harry waved his hand in an uncaring way. "Relax, brat. You'll still retain the memory of what you experienced in the chamber. This false memory which I'm about to implant onto your mind is for you to tell them the fake story. Say, if they question you, your lips will be automatically moving on its own accord without you telling it. They won't spot anything out of the ordinary and even if you are a bad liar, they still won't notice it. Even if someone reads your mind, the memory of the fake story is what they'll get. They'll believe you and it's foolproof."

"And I won't get to tell the people the truth even if I want to. Only, if you permit to a specific person, then will I able to? Is this like the last time you tampered my mind after the whole Sorcerer's Stone incident? I take it this will also last until I die unless you lift up the spell."

"The brat has finally grown to use his brain, I am so proud…" Daniel scowled. "Exactly, brat. It's the same as that. The story I had in mind should be real enough."

Harry stretched his hand and prepared to cast the spell but retracted his hands. "Why are you stopping?"

"I don't have any magic left to perform it… I may have a lot of techniques, skills and learning many spells, even wandless ability but my core isn't that large like Dumbledore or Voldemort for that matter. I can't cast continuous powerful spells consecutively, that would be suicide for me…"

Daniel staggered few steps back. "You could have told me that sooner instead acting all mighty and cool!" Harry whacked him in the head.

"Shut up, brat." Daniel moaned, clutching his bruise head. "Skip will do the honor, don't underestimate the power of a holy elemental. Like I said, holy is the highest rank of elementals and much superior than a phoenix. Skip, if you may?" The elemental motionlessly soared in the air. "On second thought, you're right, Skip. Who knows what will happen if an elemental messed with people's minds? Just lend me a little of your power and that should be enough to recover a quarter of my magic."

A tiny part of the elemental's light was coming out and it, then, proceeded to Harry. Harry's body glowed for a while before it diminished. "Right…" Harry made a weird hand sign and muttered some kind of incantation. A blinding light gleamed on Daniel's head. "Did you get the story, brat?" Daniel nodded his head, surprised how realistic the memory looked.

There were sounds of fire cracking up. "Oh, drat! The phoenix is waking up! Can't stay much longer! Skip, let's go!" The elemental disappeared from view right away, leaving traces of twinkling light on its wake, yet, Harry was still there. "This isn't the time to play around, Skip! Get me the hell out of here, now!" Harry roared furiously, fuming. Many tiny lights glittered on Harry and he vanished in the same manner as the elemental.

Daniel was stumped at the spectacular display of magic. "Well, I must say, that was impressive. You don't get to see that every day. They did it with more style than anyone ever did. Not even the headmaster Dumbledore could have done that." Daniel nodded his head, and wordlessly consented to the Sorting Hat.

* * *

><p><strong>30 May 1993.<strong>

"Your end will come sooner than you expect it to be, boy. If you keep meddling in things that do not concern you, then you are a fool and rest assured, you will meet a sticky end, I can guarantee you that," Lucius Malfoy whispered dangerously, mouth coiled into a sneer at the boy in front of him.

"Trust me, Mr. Malfoy. I had met many sticky ends but thankfully, I came out alive at the end." Daniel shrugged indifferently. "It's the price of becoming a Potter, you see. Somehow, wherever we go, trouble bounds to find us. No matter how determined we are to avoid it, it still finds us." His lips cracked into a huge grin. "Though, the more trouble we ran into, the stronger, powerful, and more experienced we become. Don't you agree?"

"Preposterous." Lucius's hand was longing to reach for his wand, lips twitched to a frown. "You are insolent, boy, just like your brother."

"I take that as a compliment. Here, Mr. Malfoy, this is for you. A little gift…" Daniel thrust the diary to him. His grin unhurriedly converted into a devious smirk when Malfoy Senior fell for his trick. Lucius wrenched the sock from the book and threw it aside. He bit his tongue from saying impetuous concerning the diary, instead called out for his elf. Dobby just stared in wonderment at the sock in his long fingers.

Receiving no response from his servant, his composed face turned to fury once his eyes landed on his elf. "You've cost me my servant, boy!" He lunged for the twelve year old boy. Before anyone could react, the man soared backward, his spine hitting the wall in the long run.

"Getting tricked by a boy is no small humiliation, Mr. Malfoy." Harry made an appearance out of himself. Arms folded together, his wand dangling in his right hand and his expression was mildly disinterested. Lucius was hastily on his feet, face livid and his hand just on the verge of pulling out his wand. "Good, just draw your wand and that gives me plenty of reasons to kick your arse." Harry pointed his wand at the man threateningly. "Oh? Having second thoughts, are we?"

Indeed, Lucius hesitated, knowing how quick the young man was, judging from their previous encounter alone. He straightened himself and held his head high. "There is no need for me to draw my wand in a fight that promises me victory in a matter of seconds. This is meaningless, Potter. I'm sure there is a more pressing matter elsewhere." He smiled cruelly.

"If you mean someone sabotaging the Mandrakes, then there is no need to worry, Mr. Malfoy. It would seem the school has taken care of it. The victims are being cure right now." Lucius looked like he swallowed the toilet brush. "The funny thing is nobody could pinpoint who the culprit was. Now, I marveled why they would do such a thing. What could they possibly gain in prolonging the Muggle-borns on being a stone? Strange, isn't it? But, your concern for the school and its students is greatly admired, Mr. Malfoy. It's a shame, you're not going to be one of the school governors in the future." Lucius's face was all red, fury seemingly ignited in him. With one last incensed and hatred glare towards the two brothers, he billowed his cloak and clumped away from them.

"Nice trick, brat, it really is nice." Daniel was cautious of this. "For a level below beginner, of course."

"I thought so," Daniel mumbled sullenly. He should have known better. "Is there even a level below beginner?"

"Daniel Potter has freed Dobby!" The elf's shrill voice snatched their attention. "Dobby is free! Daniel Potter freed Dobby!"

"It's the least I can do, Dobby." Daniel smiled, right thumb upped at the elf. "Just promise not to rescue me anymore."

Like a speeding bullet, the elf pounced him, enfolding Daniel's legs in a tight lock. "Daniel Potter is far greater than Dobby knew!" he sobbed. "Farewell for now, Daniel Potter!" Just like that, he disappeared.

"Interesting…" Harry rubbed his chin with his left hand. "You know… the elf could prove to be useful to you in the future. You should ask for his help from time to time and he'll gladly assist you. No, scratch that, he'll unquestionably help you if you ask him."

"Why?"

"It's for the elf to answer, not me. You should ask him that. Either that, or do research on House Elves." Harry, then, walked away from him. "Well, are you coming or not? Don't make me go up there and head-butt you." With that warning, Daniel hastened to his brother's side. He had no qualms on trusting his brother's words. Once Harry said it, he meant it.

* * *

><p>"So they really believe you, huh?" Harry was dumping his body carelessly on the soft grass, head was on the large boulder. "Told you, it's foolproof."<p>

His brother was beside him, hugging his knees to his chest. "Yeah, they didn't suspect a thing, not Mom and Dad, not even Dumbledore." Daniel pitched a small pebble into the water. At the moment, they were at the large oak tree by the lake, unadvisedly close to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. "Are you sure, you don't want to claim the Gryffindor sword and that you're the one who slayed the Basilisk?"

"I told you I didn't summon the bloody sword. The hat offered it to me," Harry snorted. "Don't you think you should be rejoice? You'll acquire more fame than you ever dream of. People will be awe of you at killing the Basilisk, all by yourself."

"Nah…" Daniel flicked another pebble into the lake. "I don't care about my fame anymore. I realized they only see me as the Boy-Who-Lived, not as Daniel Potter…" He propped his back against the large boulder, both hands on the back of his head. "But, you're right about one thing, Harry. One time, the people hailed me as their hero then the next thing… I'm the next dark lord after Voldemort. Well, whatever…" His chestnut brown eyes traced up to the sky. "I don't care about fame anymore…"

"Hmph…" Harry's eyes trailed upward, staring at the sky as well. "You changed a lot this year. More mature, I guess…"

"…I did a lot of thinking about what you said to me back in the chamber." Harry let his little brother know that he was listening raptly. Daniel inhaled a deep breath, "I agree with what you said to me, Harry, and thank you… You opened my mind and eyes about the prejudice in this country and to be honest, I'm just like the rest. I learned from your story that we shouldn't criticize one house based on one person alone, and in this case, I shouldn't let Malfoy obscure my thoughts that all the people in the Slytherin's house are like him. Perhaps, there are others who are different than Malfoy and his lot. Even if it is a minority and not the majority of the house, I ought to get to know the person personally before I can determine what kind of person he or she is… It's time for me to put aside the prejudice and grow up… It will take time but I believe you, Harry. If you said Salazar Slytherin wasn't that evil and the Sorting Hat supported it, then I'm sure he was not."

Harry's lips were threatening to split into a full blown smile. His pride was the one that coerced him to resist the temptation of smiling freely. "Besides…" Harry watched him from the corner of his lips, noting his brother was grinning roguishly. The mischievous Potter's grin that he familiars all too well. "The blasted infernal hat was mindset on placing me in Slytherin when he first sorted me, but I convinced him not to which led the hat into putting me with the rest of the Gryffindor. I never thought of forcing it to sort me in Gryffindor, it just did." Harry's eyebrows disappeared through his hairline and that just stretched Daniel's grin further. Finally, the reaction he craved to see from his elder brother.

"Anyway, I think we'd have a better chance on winning the cup this year."

"Oh?" Harry said. "You sound confident."

"Oh yeah, Dumbledore just gave four hundred points to Gryffindor. I don't think you can catch up to us now, in fact, none of the other houses can keep up with us now. There's a huge difference on that number." A smirk tugged Daniel's lips, feeling a bit conceited at this.

"I wouldn't count on that, brat."

"W-what do you mean?"

"You'll see…"

There was a long comfortable silence, only the sound of rustling leaves and grass from the soft wind.

"So…" Daniel paused. "…I killed the Basilisk blindly with one stab? Just so happened it was pure luck by me sinking the sword to the inside of the Basilisk and drove it up to its roof, huh?"

"Yeah…" Harry smirked out of amusement. "It was a believable story, wasn't it?"

Daniel shook his head. "Even if the sword was somehow enchanted, I don't think any monster would just die with one stab, especially if the sword wasn't that long… I can't believe they really bought the story…" He exhaled noisily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You forgot the best part. When you raised the sword to slash Riddle, it just slipped from your hands and went flying up above. The sharp tip of the sword then fell onto the diary and in the process destroying Riddle through the source of his power…"

"You know, when I heard it from someone, it really sounded ridiculous… The most ridiculous thing was when everyone nodded to every word I said about that fake story… Don't they ever wonder how I managed to get out unscathed?" Daniel sighed wearily for the second time. "Just as I thought, this world has gone barmy and mental, all of them…"

"Hmm…" Harry hummed. "For once, I agree with you, brat. The world is getting ridiculous…"

* * *

><p>"Is that potion really going to work, Madam Pomfrey?" questioned Regine fretfully. Sheila blocked her nose from the strong stench of the brownish liquid in the vial, held by the school matron. Daphne was too centered on Callista's petrified form to note the interaction ever occurred.<p>

Pomfrey looked highly affronted. "Of course, it is! All of you girls and Mr. Potter step. I'm going to administer the potion to Ms. Campbell now." She paused since the three girls didn't budge. "Well?" Harry disheveled his hair in frustration from the back of the group.

"All right, back up, you three." Harry set himself in front of the girls and forced them backwards. The girls voiced their disapproval at this, providing him feeble reasons. "Listen." Harry zipped them up all at once. "If you girls keep doing this, we'll wind up outside the infirmary and it'll be some time before we are allowed to see Callista." That shut them all up.

"Thank goodness, that's settled." Pomfrey carefully poured the liquid into Callista's opening mouth.

About a minute or so, Callista's petrified form started to take more of color.

"Callista?" Harry edged closer to her bed. His heart stopped a beat when her gorgeous azure eyes rolled to him.

"Harry…" she croaked, her voice was hoarse. "Please, tell me, that I did not pass up attending OWLs?"

Harry choked out laughter, "The first thing in mind after you get cured is _that_ instead of thinking of your friends? Definitely the girl named Callista Campbell."

The girl had the graciousness to blush a little. Just as she about to remark, she was interrupted. "Callista!" Three girls raced and leaped to her. Harry distanced himself from the bed, intent on offering them some space.

"Ow," Callista moaned as her three friends crushed her all together. "May I remind you girls that none of you are small?" Only Daphne regained herself, and stood coolly, pretending as if she never participated the group hug. "And, what is this horrible taste that lingers on my tongue?"

"What do you expect, Ms. Campbell? Some pumpkin juice? Honestly." Pomfrey presented her a glass of water. "Here, drink up." Gladly, Callista chugged the water in one go. "I suppose I'll leave you all to yourselves as I have other patients to attend to." She then tendered the girl with a smile. "It is good to have you back, Ms. Campbell."

"Me as well, Madam Pomfrey, and thank you for taking care of us."

The lady smiled more, pleased that one of her patients at least had the decency to be thankful for all of her effort. She, at all times, did favor the Ravenclaw girl over anyone else, knowing how polite and gentle she was. Moreover, she's the only person aside from her friends whom showed genuine gratitude to the school matron. The other thing was, the girl had a knack in healing magic.

"Rest a little, then you may go." With those warm words, the matron left them to themselves.

"So…" Sitting upright with little support from the others, she smiled largely. "What did I miss?"

"It's the worst month ever! I don't have anyone to study with! And- and- and it was so lonely without you!" Tears burst dramatically from Sheila, assaulting Callista with another hug. Callista shared her hilarity with Harry and Regine, patting her friend's back. Sheila brought her tears to an end just as fast as she started wailing, muttering in a not-so-low tone. "Well, there's the snake but, all she ever did was scolding me… I swear she's a menace! I bet she'll have tons of wrinkles when she's old!"

Daphne glared venomously at her. "Get off her, Jonnet, you're suffocating her!" With great effort, Daphne unbound Sheila from Callista.

"I did not, you're just jealous." She stuck her tongue out. Daphne, not fancied at being outdone by her, retaliated in the same manner.

Callista turned to her other female friend. "Were they still like this when I wasn't around?"

Regine grinned. "It's worse when the two of them study together, alone." She then went up to hug her, whispering, "It's good to have you back."

"Hold on a minute." Callista broke the embrace, anxiousness marred her features. "How much time do we have before OWLs?

Regine counted the days in her mind. "Um, I think less than two weeks."

"What!" Currently, full of energy and not the lethargy she felt earlier on. "How long was I…?"

"Nearly three weeks," Harry butted in. "A lot has happened while you were out." Now, she was alarmed. "Though you don't have to worry about it."

"B-but I haven't prepared anything yet, notes and stuff! How will we revise if I still haven't completed the notes yet?"

Daphne took a seat on the bed, beside Callista. "We took care of it."

"W-what do you mean?"

Sheila grinned at this. "We divided the tasks on completing the notes and we can just copy from each other. I mean, we can borrow each other notes!"

"Divided?"

"Yeah, I made notes on Transfiguration and Defence Against Dark Arts for all of us." Sheila was feeling proud of herself.

"There is no need to concern ourselves on Jonnet's works. I checked up on it, twice. It was fair enough to understand and we're actually able read it. Her theory was not bad as well. However, it could leave more room for improvement. Oh, I constructed some major improvement on her notes, too." Daphne's smirk widened as Sheila was fuming. "I did the Potion and Arithmancy's notes, Callista."

"I did mine on Magical Creatures and Herbology," Regine chirped. "We can check up on it later on. Don't worry, Callista, we'll have time to revise all of it. And if we work hard for it, we'll achieve excellent results! Sheila is determined to study all day long and all week, right, Sheila?"

Sheila nodded her head resolutely, her red orb eyes burning in motivation. "Absolutely! We're going to get all outstanding scores in our subjects!"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Always with the same routine. Easier said than done. I am certain, she'll whine and complain after a minute of studying," she murmured quietly to her two best friends. The two giggled at this.

"Hey! You're saying something bad about me, aren't you, snake?"

"Of course not, Jonnet. Why would I?" Daphne responded sarcastically.

"You girls did all of that for me?" Callista was noticeably touched by this.

"Of course." Regine smiled. "You're our friend, so why wouldn't we?"

"Thank you, girls." Callista pulled all three of them in for a hug.

"Daph, you should get showered after this, you stink." Sheila wrinkled her nose cutely.

"Shut up, Jonnet." Callista and Regine suppressed their laughter. "For your information, I am not the only one who has not bath yet!"

Sheila rounded her two friends, schooling her scowl. "Daphne's right, you two haven't had showers either!" Her tone was full of playfulness.

"I meant you, Jonnet!" Daphne roared. Snatching one of the pillows on the infirmary's bed, she buried her face and screamed frustratingly. The two girls broke to laughter at their interactions, unable to control themselves. It never failed to amuse them. Daphne, with a scowl marring her gorgeous face, threw the pillow straight at Sheila. Flipping her lustrous blond hair, she huffed as the laughter escalated.

Harry cleared his throat noisily, annoyance accumulated in his chest. "Are you girls forgetting someone who had done the most work?"

"Did we?" Daphne quirked her well-manicure right eyebrow, showing the barest hint of mirth.

For Sheila's part, she does truly looked bewildered. "Who?"

"Me," he muttered, scowling.

"Oh?" Regine rotated her head to Callista, totally disregarding Harry's irritation. "That's right, Harry also made notes for the other subjects."

"For the other subjects?" Harry mouthed before he threw a barrage of rants, "I was the one who had done the most work! You girls are lucky to only concentrate on two subjects, but me? I have to bloody focus on four subjects! Four! In Charms, do you know how hard it is without copying your notes, Callista? And in History, some of the sources weren't nearly as true as I suspected it to be and you know how much I hate writing untrue historical events even if it is for exams! Not to mention I had to wake up in the middle of the bloody night to review the stars for Astronomy's notes! Don't even get me started with Ancient runes! It was a headache for me to translate the meaning of one rune to another! And with all this petrifying business, it's stressing me out! Thank god, I didn't take Arithmancy. All those numerical equations would drive me into a complete madness!"

"Thank you, Harry…"

Her words are so sincere that they compelled Harry to look away with cheeks flamed. "W-w-well next time, you'd better stick to me at all times. You know, I don't play favorites in the team and that, I treated everyone fairly. I couldn't look after you when our teammates were practically riding on my shoulders and expected more from me. So, don't do that again."

"Right," Callista mumbled with her own blush complementary to his. "Next time…" She lingered on the line a bit longer. "…I won't."

The other three were paying very close attention to this and didn't like what they saw.

"Did you know I hugged Harry from behind in the Astronomy tower at night?" Sheila blurted out.

Three heads snapped to her. "W-what?" Callista shuttered, eyes widened.

"So what, Jonnet? He came comforting me in my room and we spent some time with him lending his shoulder to me!" Daphne hissed, her cheeks burned red. "It began in the afternoon and ended at night!"

"What!" Callista's voice appeared to drag to higher pitch.

"Well, Harry and I were alone by the lake yesterday and he embraced me from behind by putting his arms around me! It was no normal hug either, it's real close!" Regine said, refusing to let any of her best friends best her. Her own cheeks were reddening more and more at each word.

"What!" Callista's voice was joined by the other two. This led to a four-way large scale of arguments.

"Enough!" The arguments receded to Harry's voice. Harry looked incredulous at all four of them. "Do you all want us to get kick out by Madam Pomfrey? What's gotten into you girls?"

"Nothing!" They cried in unison, flushing red and purposely not meeting his eyes.

Harry sighed, shoulders slouched. "Seriously, sometimes, I just don't get you girls at all…"

* * *

><p>Harry had gone to many celebrations in his life and he thought he had seen it in all. Nevertheless, that night, he was proven wrong. Everybody, students and faculty members alike, were all in their pajamas, all attending the Hogwarts feast. Harry, himself, was in a state of black long sleeve t-shirt and casual slacks. The headmaster concluded that night would be splendid to conduct a big celebration that would last all night. Harry didn't argue nor complain with that. It made sense to him, taking in account the Chamber of Secrets is now no longer of a threat and all of the victims were cured.<p>

Harry cast a side long glance to his right, distinguishing Callista was there. She was conversing with Li and Clearwater in matters that he didn't fancy involving himself in. Luna came by earlier, commenting how Wrackspurts caught up to Callista and that Luna wasn't quick enough to rescue her from it. Callista merely smiled at the girl, thanking for her thoughtfulness and concern. Callista promised she'd be careful in the near future. Harry was astounded to witness the eccentric first year girl had blushed at Callista's words.

Spinning his head around, his emerald eyes settled on a specific red-head by the Gryffindor table. He had been monitoring the brat ever since he entered the Great Hall. And true to Daniel's words, he didn't care about his fame anymore. Just like the time when one of the Hufflepuff, Justin Fletchley, a victim and one of those who publicly accused Daniel, hurried to his brother, wringing his hand and apologized profusely. Daniel's reaction was to smile at the Hufflepuff, shaking his hand off the boy and brushed it off without a care. He just sat down with his two best friends and chatted with them, missing the baffled faces of people around him, counting his two friends as well.

Harry propped his head on one hand and swiveled his eyes to the staff table. Hagrid was there with the rest of them. The keeper turned up later in the afternoon and after Callista's treatment, they all proceeded to welcome the big fella. Of course, they were glad Hagrid had returned. For him, the bad thing was when Regine exultantly inquired what kind of nasty creatures Hagrid would be bringing for her sixth year. Hagrid laughed boisterously at the girl's excitement and assured Regine that the next creature he brought, would be much better than the previous ones that he had owned. He and the three girls quivered at that. What's more horrid than an Acromantula, a Cerberus, and a Dragon? His unfortunate clash with Aragog and the Basilisk were still fresh in mind. It was sufficient for him to ward off any creatures for the next few months.

Dumbledore had just risen up from his seat and beamed at them all. The bustling and the gibberish in the Great Hall ebbed away. It's as if it was a routine, the headmaster then commenced his speech. He announced the good and the bad things that ensued. Most people shed a fleeting look to the Boy-Who-Lived at this. Presumably, with the rumors circulating around Hogwarts, it was not a surprise that everybody sucked up the fake story Harry imprinted in Daniel's mind. Harry snorted at the part where Dumbledore sadly proclaimed Lockhart would be unable to return for the next year. Harry wasn't fond of the buffoon anyway. His only disappointment was that he wasn't the person who was responsible for Lockhart's state.

As custom, Dumbledore seized everybody's attention when he mentioned the House Cup. It would seem this year's house cup would be given much earlier than the previous years. Almost all of the Gryffindor House leaned in eagerly, perceptibly thinking they would be winning the House Cup at long last. Some, if not most, eyed Harry, fearing he'd pull something out of his sleeve. But, they consoled with themselves that there was no way any house would catch up to them, mainly if a house was bestowed four hundred points in one day.

"Now, let us give a warm applause to the Gryffindor for winning the House Cup!"

The applause did happen and it was large, added with the cheers boomed from the Gryffindor Table. Harry shrugged. He didn't have time to contemplate any plot to win the House Cup this year, not with the Chamber of Secrets plaguing his mind. Banners of Gryffindor Red materialized out of nowhere, hanging all over the ceiling. This intensified the cheers from the Gryffindors and some rose up from the table. Unluckily for them, McGonagall cut them short of their celebration. The clinking noise that erupted from her glass made everyone pipe down.

"May I have everyone's attention, if you please?" On her feet, she nodded after everyone quieted down. "Albus, may I take it from here?" Dumbledore peeked over to the Ravenclaw Table and his eyes twinkled, full blast. Circling his head back to McGonagall, he smiled, nodding and procured his seat back.

"Yes, well, a very big congratulation to my house and I am proud of you all." She then puckered her lips. "As duty calls me, I regret to inform everyone that not all of the points had been taken into account and as such, I must act accordingly." Her features were very solemn and the room went very still. "First of all, not any of you had known this but in the very early morning, we, the staff, had made a dreadful discovery." Whispers filled the Great Hall. "Someone had sabotaged the mandrakes and I'm afraid to say, it was a successful attempt. All of them withered away." There were small gasps all around.

"Professor Sprout had verified this piece of information." Sprout bobbed her head and murmurs of anxiety broke out. "Unfortunately, we could not identify who the culprit was and why they did such things." A smile bloomed on her lips. "Now, I am very sure you all are wondering if that is so then why the victims are all cured. Make no mistake, the school didn't purchase it from outside the castle, and acquiring full grown mandrakes is very expensive that none of the school budgets could afford it." This piqued all of their attention, even less when the stern transfiguration teacher was smiling widely now. "However, we were rescued from the most unlikely person. We never expected him to sacrifice a huge sum of money to buy a full grown mandrake, much less six of them. The person is a student and it is Mr. Potter, the elder Potter."

All heads spontaneously diverted to him. Callista looked stunned out of the most. Harry ducked his head a bit, a red tint surfaced from his cheeks. He didn't expect his deed to be out in public, much less McGonagall proclaiming it to everyone. The only reason why he bought those mandrakes was to cure Callista, never for the rest of the victims, but he absentmindedly purchased all six to cure all of them. Regine was accurate, it did cause a small dent in his money he earned from Puddlemere.

"For this, we, all of the staff - with the exception of Professor Snape - concurred to award Mr. Potter three hundred points, fifty each for curing all six victims! Also, within my rights as the Deputy Headmistress, I would like to announce that Mr. Potter will be receiving Special Award for the service he had done to the school. While we cannot repay Mr. Potter for his noble action, this is the least we can do for him. Let us give our bright applause to Mr. Potter!"

The hall exploded in cheers, applauding for Harry. It was crammed with applause, whistles, and cheers from the people all over the Great Hall. The cheer was nothing like the previous one or last year. Cursing to himself, the blush on his face deepened abhorrently.

"Well, well, Potter is being unusual…" Xi Li, with her blue short cropped hair, smirked and slid a seat next to him, on his left side. She had just removed herself from her previous seat, in favor of teasing Harry. This was a rare opportunity for her that she cannot pass up.

"Sod off, Li." His blush didn't lessen a bit and was itching to _silencio _his housemates for chanting his name. "Why can't you just stay put?"

"This is going to be fun. It's a payback for making fun of me all the time, Potter." The smirk curved into a grin, eyes gleamed in anticipation.

It didn't help much that his housemates kept congratulating him and patting his back. When Callista boldly pecked his cheek in a thankful manner, he maintained a steady furious gaze on his lap. Seeing glares directed to her, Callista adopted a perfectly innocent look and she was confident her three best friends were amongst those glares. Serves them right for hogging Harry to themselves when she was petrified. Li just grinned more and carried on her teasing in which he struggled to deny her advance. This was something he never saw coming, he was practically ambushed!

Most of the delusional Gryffindors gaped at Harry, conscious the Ravenclaws were in the lead yet again.

"I believe a change of decoration is in order?" McGonagall impeded Flitwick from doing it. "Allow me, Filius."

"He should be in Gryffindor… His nobility proved that…" she muttered before waving her wand, lackadaisically swapping the hangings into Ravenclaw. Filius, for once, neglected the comment and contented himself with his house winning the House Cup for seven times in a row. He was now standing on his seat, clapping his hands excitedly, and roaring Harry's name.

* * *

><p>"B-B-Bloody hell…" Ron stuttered, pointing a finger towards Harry. "I… He… Daniel, your brother… We…"<p>

"Give it a rest, Ron." Daniel twirled his neck around, grinning as his brother was being out of character. There was one Asian girl teasing him relentlessly, taking advantage of his misfortune and it gave everyone the impression that it was a losing battle for Harry. The cheer still remained and it was rowdy.

"B-b-but, the headmaster gave us four hundred points! H-how could he…?" Ron was at a loss of words. "After all the things we've gone through… He…"

"It's fine, Ron. Maybe, this is not our year. You never know, we might win the House Cup in our third year." Daniel was aware of how Hermione was staring at him with calculating looks. "What?"

"Nothing, it's hard to not notice you've somehow…"

"Changed?"

"Yes. Did something good happen to you, Daniel? Something you failed to share with us?"

"What makes you say that, Hermione?" Daniel smiled charmingly.

"If you must know, Daniel, that Potter charm of yours doesn't work on me." She huffed indignantly. "Now, are you going to tell me what it is?"

"Let's just say, I'm trying to change for the best and someone opened my eyes. I intend to not dawdle around anymore."

"Oh?" Hermione's eyes sparkled, appraising him. "That's very mature of you, Daniel, and I'm proud of you. I hope with this resolution of yours, you will start taking your studies more seriously from now on."

"Yeah, sure, Hermione, I aim too." Hermione quirked her eyebrow at this. "What? I'm serious! Most of my family members are brilliant in studies including my dad so I ought to improve my grades from now on! I don't want to bring shame to my family."

"Well, I'm glad you think so, Daniel." She nodded her head, evidently pleased with his answer. She soured up afterwards, forlorn sigh emitted out of her mouth. "I still can't help to think that we're just _this_ close to winning the house cup, but I'm afraid that is another fruitless dream."

"Don't worry, there's still another year for us." The cheers were slowly toning down as most dug into the food on the table. "Besides, this is the first time Ron turned down food. I hope it's not the end of the world." With his head, Daniel nudged it to Ron, grinning. Ron was staring blankly at the Ravenclaw table, mouth opening and closing, discounting the food in front of him. Hermione burst to a fit of giggles. "As long as my brother is around, I gave up on the idea of winning the House and the Quidditch cup." Daniel paused for five seconds. "Forget what I say, it'll go away. Ooh my favorite, chocolate pie!"

Hermione had a difficult time believing that Daniel had acted so maturely in the last past few minutes and now, he's being absurdly childish. He was savoring the dessert, greedily piling his plate with most of his favorite dishes. Looking over his elder brother, Harry, she discerned him inefficiently overlooking the Chinese girl whom was still teasing him at this point. She marveled if all of the Potters were like this. They were an enigma to her, so mysterious and tricky to solve. She thought she knew everything about Daniel, but was proven wrong.

Grabbing the spoon and the fork, she dumped vegetables onto Daniel's plate, putting away half of the chocolate pie back to its place. Growling, Daniel glowered at her. When that didn't work, he pouted at her. She shook her head, smiling widely. Yes, she had much more to learn about Daniel and she was looking forward to the day where she understood him the most.

* * *

><p>"Is that right?"<p>

It was now, in the middle of night. Harry wore his jacket and was accompanying Merlin outside the castle. Harry had received the message from the old man to meet him at the entrance of the castle. How Merlin slinked into the castle ground without alerting anyone, in particular the headmaster, was beyond Harry. At the present, they were strolling down the pathway, heading in the direction of Hagrid's cabin.

"Old man, there is no doubt in my mind that my heart stopped just for a moment and I was in some sort of area where there is only white from one end to another. The realm was in between life and death. I witnessed things no one should before their time comes. It looked so real and I'm sure it wasn't a dream. Do you think I'm clowning around? You know, I don't do jokes with you." Harry creased his eyebrows together. "What I don't understand is why you never tell me anything about the Chamber of Secrets? That would probably solve everything and make things easier."

"Harry…" Merlin treaded his words carefully. "You know very well that I do not involve myself into the present world. Your world is no longer my own."

"What does that have to do with the chamber?" Harry spat, fury mounting by the second. "Telling me doesn't exactly involving yourself into the present world, even it is indirectly! You're just unbelievable sometimes, old man. Why can't you just speak without riddles?" Harry massaged his temples. "Forget it, what's done is done… I should thank you for teaching me the _Mystic Eyes _and for sending Skip to me. You saved my life and that's what matters…"

"I apologize, Harry…I really do…" A hand placed on Harry's shoulder stopped the walking. Harry twisted his neck to the old man, eyes calculating.

"It's fine, old man." Harry transferred his awareness back to the front. "Like I said, I should thank you instead. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't return back."

"Still, it is an extraordinary feat that you get to experience it, Harry."

"Yeah." He readily agreed. "But, you know what, old man? Dying isn't that bad. I felt only peace in that realm, nothing more… However-" Harry sent a penetrating look to the old man. "-I do not want, nor will I, risk my life again. Life is precious and we only get to live once, so never throw it away."

"Oh my…" Merlin concealed his smile with the back of his hand. "I had no idea our position could be swapped, Harry. Now mentoring me, instead of the other way around. I suppose you would be handing advice to me as well."

"I'm serious, old man." Harry halted in his tracks, spinning around with a somber expression. "I know you desired death more than anything in this world and that the pain of solitude is too much for you to cope. If you didn't break the rules the Ancients placed on you and not taught me the old magic, then you will not age. You'll remain immortal and that immortality will not be taken away. Now, you will be eaten by time soon enough." He then analyzed the new wrinkles on Merlin's face. "But, please…" Harry whispered. "There is one person who will mourn your death…"

"I will not disappear yet. I will assure you that I can live for another ten years, child..." Merlin smiled and sauntered ahead with eyes closing serenely. "You must not take lightly of my reputation as the wisest and greatest wizard of all time, Harry. My magic will expand my life longer than you assumed it to be…"

A tiny smile crossed the corner of Harry's lips. He chased after the old man, jogging a bit. Comfortable silence greeted them, and Harry was contented with the old man's response. Even though he never admitted it, but he cared a lot for the Sorcerer.

"Ah, yes." Merlin shattered the silence, now they are in front of Hagrid's cabin. The snores of Hagrid could be heard. "Why are we here, Harry?"

"Wait here." Harry jogged to the forest. Merlin inclined his head at his pupil's behavior. He didn't have to wait so long when a sound of an engine roar split up in the air from afar. His eyes widened in the tiniest fraction when a car, blue Ford Anglia, raced out of the forest. Harry screeched the car into a halt just in front of the old man. With all the ruckus, Hagrid was still peacefully sleeping. Opening the door, Harry exited the car and smirked complacently. "So, what do you think of this, old man?"

Merlin was completely swept by surprise. "I honestly do not know what to say, Harry…"

"It's not often I shock you." Harry grinned, rarely did he ever do so. "This car didn't want to return back to its previous owner so I took it in and I was hoping we could keep it in your mansion. When we feel like it, we'll drive it around the Muggle world. How's that?" Harry banged the door shut, still looking smug. "And, I just learned that I'm a natural at driving. It's kinda like flying a broom."

A chuckle first spewed out of Merlin's throat, then it replaced by laughter. "You are truly unpredictable, Harry…"

"So, we can keep it?" Harry's face shone excitement.

"Under the condition that the car does not want to be claimed back by its previous owner, then I suppose it is all right." Merlin moved to it and traced the roof with his fingers. "Hmm, the model is very outdated, yet the shape is still in its finest structure."

"I might have done something to it…" Harry mumbled, cheeks tainted in pink.

"Yes, yes, you have." The old man's eyes shimmered in amusement.

A sudden thought floated to Harry's mind. "Old man…"

"There is a very important matter I'd like to speak with you. Compare to the Chamber of Secrets, this is more bad news that makes the chamber look like good news." Merlin motioned for Harry to carry on. "Last night, before the whole chamber incident, a memory suddenly entered my dream. I don't know if it is real or not since I never recalled it in my entire life. The scene looked so real and I believed it to be real… When I was four, I was visited by something and it's more than one… It was before Voldemort attacked my house…" Merlin's pose was now rigid.

For the next five minutes, Harry perfectly recounted every detail of the strange memory he had dreamed of. "…And then they were gone, just vanished into thin air. Their magic is… something in a complete different level. Just with the dream alone, was enough to left me shivering non-stop for few minutes. They are even more powerful than you, old man. The funny thing is, after they made an appearance, my whole life turned upside down…" Suspicion marked his features. "Are they 'the Ancients'? They're the only ones that I could think of." No response, Harry grew annoyed. "The most disturbing is what they said to me. What do they mean that I will be 'theirs' and this _horror_ that is about to be unleash in the years to come?"

Merlin's eyes narrowed, his features were cold, emotionless and impassive. Just the expression alone was sufficient for Harry to divert his attention elsewhere. He swallowed down his nervousness and bravely confronted the old man. "Merlin, answer me. Is all of this really happening to me?"

"I was hoping it wouldn't come to you for a few more years and now you had uncovered it on your own…"

"So, you knew this whole time? This _horror _and that memory of the Ancients visited me which was wiped out from my mind?" Harry gnashed his teeth together. "Answer me, damn it! Those questions had been troubling my mind for quite some time now. It's quite vexing! You think I'm daft? I know how serpents have been acting recently. Every now and then, they sang praise to their so called real 'King of Serpents' that's been in some sort of prison!" Harry took in a deep breath. "Am I to play a role in bigger events in the near future?" Harry started to chuckle without humor. "I always knew, up until now that there would be a price when you were so keenly interested in training me or there was a reason behind it…" He gazed at the sky, discerning the stars twinkling brilliantly.

"I will not lie to you, Harry. …Yes, the dream you spoke of, is real… They are the Ancients and for some reason, they took a major interest in you..."

Harry made a disgruntled sound. "There's something inside me, isn't there?" Merlin hoisted his head up, slight shock in his eyes. "Supposedly, I'm a direct descendant from my ancestor - whoever he is - and that, I inherit something important from him. Something I had yet to realize and unravel…"

"Who told you that?"

"Another thing you didn't tell me about my ancestor…" He murmured. "You know what, old man? This stinks. It feels like you've been manipulating my life from the very beginning… What else haven't you tell me? Has Skip been stealing my underwear as well?" Harry spat harshly, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "This is bullshit, old man… Everything…"

"Indeed, it is _bullshit_ as you said it was…And I am afraid Skip had tried many times though luck was on your side as I commanded him not to…" Facing away, Harry couldn't repress the slight chuckles from his lips. "Harry, I have never lied to you. It is simply the matter that I did not tell you."

"What's the difference?"

"You are not prepared. You still have much to learn and you lack experience."

Harry glared him. "Prepared? I have been under your guidance for seven whole years! All the sweat and blood from the training! Learning things that no modern people could hope to learn! What's all that for? Just for entertainment? So tell me, if I'm not prepare after all of that."

"I acknowledge your skill. You, however, are still weak. Your fight with the Basilisk alone corroborated with my words. If it were not for luck, then you would not have slain Slytherin's pet." Body stiffened, his eyes wavered at the harsh words, jaws hardening. It felt like a slap on the face. "The things you so greatly desire to know is something I wish to tell you when you are truly prepared, Harry… Look at me, child…" Merlin's face softened as Harry's eyes sometimes flickered to another direction, desperately wanting to avoid his gaze. "My only wish is for you to learn things on your own. You have begun to rely on me and that is your weakness… Where is the little Harry that is never reliant on someone else except himself? The child that had been independent since he's five years old, the child that I cared and am so fond of, and the child that is determined to do things by himself, hmm? You cannot rely on me forever, Harry. There will be a time when I will be gone from this world and from that point on, you will have to deal with things on your own." He pulled the hood of his cloak down, revealing his face. "You are not ready, Harry… you must understand that there is something in this world that is beyond you and I… No matter how people said the world is small, the world is enormous. It held many mysteries that even I do not know…"

"I know…" Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm too naïve. It's obvious this is bigger than anything I could imagine and if it involves you, old man, then Voldemort would only be something to laugh about."

"I will tell you everything you need to know once I deem you have completed your training, I promise and will honor my words. But first…" He pointed his finger to Harry's chest. "Like you had stated, Harry, there is something inside you which you alone, inherit from your ancestor and you are his direct descendant. My reason for not telling you is simply due to the fact that I wish for you to deal _this_ by yourself. It is something that even I could not interfere with. I fear if I do interfere, then there is a slight possibility that I will alter _it_… Just with the mere action of allowing me to check up on you, there will be changes in you…"

"Why?"

"Even that is a mystery to me, Harry. Your ancestor, for lack of a better word, is very…eccentric." Merlin wrinkled his nose, bemusedly. "He is very dissimilar than any man of his period that even I and King Arthur find him to be intriguing. He is full of mysteries, nevertheless, he does have a kind and huge heart. If it were not mostly for him, Arthur might have lost most of the wars back in the old days. He is powerful, perhaps, more powerful than I." He examined Harry scrupulously. "Truthfully Harry, he is a lot like you…"

"Don't joke with that, it gives me the creeps." Hairs on the back of his neck stood up. "Right, I will hold onto my questions for a while and be patient. If my assumption is right, then I might have just thrown my life away in the future…" He gazed at the sky ambivalently. "Sometimes, I wish I acted like everyone my age…You know, just be normal." Harry smiled sympathetically, secreting another humorless chuckle. "Chasing girls, hanging out with my friends, being rebellious every now and then, and simply enjoying life… I guess I am no ordinary… Sometimes, flirting and acting childish is what reminds me that I was born in this time and not in yours, old man… Though, for some reason, I feel like I belong in your world and not in the present world…Will there be hope for me?" he asked to no one in particular. A rush of wind grazed them, swaying their attire and hair ever so slightly.

"Hope will always be there. No matter how puny it is, it can shine large. Even when it is faded, it will be always there if we believe in it, Harry." Merlin smiled. "It is not too late to act and experience like a youngster of your age. As long as you are in Hogwarts, then you have no need to worry about the bigger things."

"Somehow, I felt like I'm triggering to the future events of the world…" Harry murmured, brooding.

"You have no idea, Harry…" was the soft whisper coming from Merlin's mouth.

"You're right." Harry ruffled his silk hair out of habit than necessity, not aware of the whisper. "You're right, Merlin. I'm still in Hogwarts and so, I shouldn't worry about bigger things yet. This 'King of Serpents' and the Ancients, they are not my concern yet. In the future, maybe, but not now. I was being naïve, thinking I could handle anything but it proves to be otherwise."

Merlin smiled, "Yes, and when the time comes, I will guide you, Harry…"

"Right," Harry said, squirming uncomfortably. "Enough with the seriousness. Can you take the car back to your mansion? I can't think of any place except yours."

"Of course, I've always desired to drive an automobile and now it has come true." The old man mildly dived to the front seat, making himself comfortable.

"Hey, hey, don't get too comfortable with the car, old man. It's mine. I'm asking you to look after it for me." Merlin positioned his hands on the steering wheel. "Are you listening to me, damn it!"

_Tell him…_

Harry was struck with those words. Recollecting his memory, he gazed the old man with mixed feelings. "Hey, old man?"

"Hmm…" Merlin was inspecting the car in obvious enthusiasm, not looking at Harry.

_Tell him I will be waiting for him…_

_Tell him, I love him very much…_

_My love for him never falters, it merely grows…_

Harry faltered for a moment. For one thing, he wasn't confident the lady's soul-mate was Merlin and that message was intended for him. For another, Harry thought it was indeed for the old man. "Harry, is there something you wish to tell me?"

"No." Harry moved away from the door, grumbling in aggravation.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, old man," Harry answered, annoyed.

"Very well, then. I'll be leaving now, Harry. Be sure to visit me after you return to your home." Harry nodded, dutifully obeying his mentor's demand. "Oh, there is one other thing, Harry. Do you not wish to claim the Basilisk?"

"Whatever for?" Harry had a confounded look on his face before he snapped his fingers. "Oh, that's right. The parts can be used for potions or sold it to earn lots of fortune. I forgot the Basilisk is worth tons of profit."

"Yes, Harry. I can send Skip to harvest it."

"An elemental can do that?" Harry fluttered his eyes in incredulity.

Merlin's eyes flashed in an amused way. "Elementals can execute many tasks that are given to them. They are simply fascinating, would you not agree?"

"Yeah, they are. I won't refute that."

Harry rubbed his chin with his right hand, pondering on this. "If I decline it, what are you going to do with it, old man?"

"I, for one, wish to research it, particularly since it once belonged to Salazar. I never did have an opportunity to research on a Basilisk before and this is Slytherin's pet. I am quite sure Salazar modified the Basilisk into a new breed that was more powerful than an ordinary Basilisk."

"Well, you're right on how powerful it is. If it weren't for the Gryffindor Sword, I would have remained dead. I barely scratched the bloody thing," Harry said. "You know what? You can have it. I don't need any more gold, I have enough in Gringotts. I'm not that greedy anyway. What's more, I don't know what to do with the ingredients. I'm an excellent brewer but not master enough to care on creating new potions. Just one request. Tell me how the Basilisk's gaze can kill anyone who looks into it. Last time, I countered the beast's murderous gaze with my _Mystic Eyes_."

"Very well then, I will update you with my research from time to time." His eyes glazed for a second. "Skip is now moving the large corpse to my mansion as we speak. Well then, I suppose I'll be leaving now, Harry."

"Right, you'd best get going. How are you going to take this to your mansion anyway? The fuel for flying has run out…" Harry trailed his words, dumbfounded as soon as the car hovered above the ground.

Harry perceived one of the old man's hands leaned out of the window of the car. Harry naturally thought he was waving at him, but Harry's mouth was slightly ajar once Merlin's right hand contacted the roof of the car. In an instant, the car itself transformed into a different, better and superior model. The Ford Angelia was no more as it was replaced by an Aston Martin Lagonda Vignale. It was still its original turquoise color. Now, Harry may not have had time to update his knowledge on the non-magical world, but he was confident the car that substituted the Ford Angelia was the newest model of the current year.

"Sometimes, I really hate that old man…" Harry grumbled, infuriated. "He'd better teach me how to do that…"

Eyes still on the sky, the car drew further away and away. One last look, Harry wheeled around, planning to go back to the castle. Out of the blue, flash of enormous ethereal globe crashed into his mind. Coughing rather violently, Harry collapsed to the ground, both knees dropping to the ground. Right hand clenched tightly on his chest, his body leaned forward, and Harry desperately sucked in the sweet gulp of air into his lungs. His head was spinning and a nausea was rising from his stomach. Calming himself, Harry rose to his feet wobbly, still gasping for air. He wiped the small blood from his lips.

"What the hell is happening to me?" He looked at his shaky hands with large eyes, breathing profoundly.


	19. Chapter 18, Season 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter.

**Summary: **If Harry's baby brother, Daniel, is the Boy-Who-lived, then what of Harry? What is his role? Is he destined for greater? Or, is he to play a much bigger role in the future? Followed Canon's plot, with much bigger AU's plot as the story progresses further. Harry will be a different person and his nemesis will not be Voldemort. He is three years older than in the canon's, older brother to the Boy-Who-lived. There will be also a major twist in the canon's plot.

* * *

><p><strong>...~[]oOo[]~...<strong>

**Harry Potter, Rise From Dust. (Season 3)**

**...~[]oOo[]~...**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 18.<strong>

**20 June 1993.**

It was a peaceful Sunday morning in the Potter mansion. Although it was early in the morning, a lone teenager was bustling over breakfast meals in the kitchen. None of the remaining occupants were wide awake yet, save for the eldest son. Harry Potter was no ordinary teenager, and he knew it quite well. In seldom times, he prided himself for being different than the rest of the people, be it magical or non-magical. He was… how would you put it? Extraordinary? No, extraordinary would be a big word. He would consider himself lucky, not special, not an exceptional or a remarkable young man.

Of course, it's not the type of luck in which grants people a good luck charm in their life. No, for him, it's a bad luck. After knowing the reason of the phenomenal inexplicable things that occurred in his life and the cause of it was none other than of what inside him, it instigated for him to reconsider his life thoroughly. He wondered if it were not for the 'thing' inside him, would the old man have ever taken him under his wing? He wondered if his life would be normal instead. He wondered where he would be now. Would he achieve the many great things in his life? He wondered if his parents would ever neglect him…

He shook his head, disposing of those thoughts. What's done is done. It's meaningless for him to look back his life once it already transpired, there's no point to it. It would only give him the impression of not appreciating everything that came about in his life. There was a celebration held in the Greengrass manor last night. Lady Greengrass was unrelenting in celebrating him and the girls returning from Hogwarts. Of course, Lord Greengrass just allowed the patriarch to do whatever she wants, for fear if he didn't, he would be confronted by his wife's wrath.

Harry chuckled merrily to himself.

How could a well built man, with an air of intimidation and authority, be so fearful of his own wife? William basically shriveled under Elizabeth's own shadow. It's true what they say then. Men ruled the world, yet women ruled over men. William and Elizabeth Greengrass were like parenting figures to Harry. He had known them for over five years now, no thanks to their daughter, Daphne, for introducing him to them.

Harry stirred the noodles in the cooking pan, the large fork in his right hand. He halted the stir and moved to the other pan. He checked the spicy sauce, verifying it as to not overcook. Satisfied, he stepped back from the stove. To snuff out the fire he waved his hand, and then wandlessly cast a charm at a certain pot. It began making tea for him, adding the appropriate amount of sugar and such. He then wriggled out of the apron he was wearing and sat at the table in the kitchen. He lifted a book he had gotten from Callista. It was a Muggle fiction book to be more specific, but Harry found it to be interesting. The sound of someone yawning indolently drifted to his ears, but he wasn't bothered by it.

With messier hair than it normally was, Daniel Potter froze in his tracks, mouth ajar, hand midway to his mouth.

"Brat, stop your ridiculous act and take a seat. Do try to close your mouth too…"

Reddening, the smaller guy wisely locked his mouth. With great caution, Daniel situated himself next to his brother. He watched in amazement as Harry snapped his fingers without looking up from the book he was currently reading. Two plates and two cups came swooping down to position themselves on the table. With another wave, the meals were served and the two cups were filled with hot tea. Without straying his eyes, Harry slurped the noodles. Daniel gazed down the meal, treating it with vigilant, poking the red meatballs. Seeing his brother eating his meal, Daniel followed his action. He munched the noodles happily. He wouldn't admit it, but hell, his brother knew how to cook.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I added an undetectable poison that I recently created to your food. I always wanted to experiment _that_ poison on people but never had the opportunity to. Now, it seems it's successful." Daniel's eyes bulged and he coughed violently. Harry snorted with slight laughter. "Relax brat, I was just kidding." Daniel settled on the tea this time. "Your tea however, is _definitely_ mixed with the poison I told you about. You'd better not drink it…" Hurriedly, Daniel spat all of the contents out of his mouth, panic rising.

Harry glanced up at his brother, eyes glimmered impishly. "You know what, brat? You're a sucker. You're too trustful to everyone you met. You need to do something about that in the future, or it would eat you alive. There was never poison in the first place." And with that, Harry turned back to his meal and his book. "Clean the mess, will you?" Daniel glowered at his older brother, growling lowly. Cursing to himself, he attended the mess without magic. He couldn't use magic as he's underage and he's not a wandless user like his brother.

Harry slammed his book shut and set it aside. Smirking at his little brother, who was scrubbing the mess, he raised his cup of tea. Daniel, to his credit, just ignored it and not allowed his brother antagonize him any further. "I never got to see your result on your second-year exams, did I? What did you get? Did you do well?" Daniel blinked his eyes at this. It's not often Harry took a major interest in Daniel's life. Nonetheless, considering how Harry didn't fancy Daniel shaming the family's pride, it's not a surprise.

"Um…yeah, I did well in exams, more than I thought I would. I can show you my report card if you want."

"Right, go get your report card." It wasn't a question, it was more of a command. Harry had to wait for a while before Daniel came back. When Daniel did return, he was with someone. In his arms was Rosaline Potter in her night gown, the tufts of her raven black hair looking chaotic.

"What is she doing up so early?"

"She woke up and was walking sleepily around the hallway, so I picked her up. Right, Rosy?"

The four and half year old girl yawned innocently in response. Daniel blocked her mouth with his hand. He carefully placed his sister in between him and his older brother. Harry served another, smaller, meal for his sister and the small girl looked at the meal with her charming cute chestnut brown eyes. She budged to the person next to her and looked up. Within a second of spotting Harry, she brightened, the drowsiness no longer wearing her down. She grinned toothily at him.

"Hawwy!" Harry's eyes twitched at the pronunciation of his name. Perceiving the sound of snickers, he nonchalantly whacked Daniel's head.

"Hawwy, where's my present?" she demanded, the grin dropping off her face.

"Later, Rosaline. If you're a good girl, I'll give it to you later."

The girl pouted cutely. "I don't want troll!" she huffed, folding her arms.

"Fine, no troll."

"Yay!" she cheered, chucking her hands up in the air.

"Finish your food first and be a good girl. Then, we'll see…"

Next, Harry gestured the report card from his other sibling. Daniel handed it to him with shaky hands. Scrutinizing it, Harry's eyebrows vanished by the hairline. He was very much amazed. Most of the subjects were Outstanding, except for Potions, History of Magic and Herbology. The brat had done it this time, it was extremely impressive. "W-well?" Daniel's anxious voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

"I must say brat, this is really impressive. Never knew, you'd end up in second place out of your year. Must put quite a shock to everyone," said Harry, voice dripping with genuineness and a bit of awe. All Harry knew about his brother's first year grades were mostly consisted of Acceptable and Exceeds Expectations, and were never Outstanding. Heck, the brat even got a Poor in his first year.

Flushing, Daniel sheepishly rubbed the scruff of his neck. "Y-yeah, but it could leave with more improvement. Hermione's results are much more impressive in comparison to mine. She got all Outstanding." At his brother's truly sincere looks, Daniel couldn't stop himself from being embarrassed.

"Was she impressed?"

Red tinged more on his cheeks. "Definitely. She couldn't stop complimenting me in the train and Ron was annoyed by her constant babbles. Though, she was a bit put out with my grades and I think she will take this up into studying more for next year exams so I won't beat her. But mostly, she was impressed and proud of me."

"Danny, you look funny." Rosaline giggled gleefully, the spice sauce smeared around her mouth.

Harry quirked an eyebrow, with a touch of amusement. "Danny, huh? All this time and I didn't know you were a girl. I might have missed that part, brat."

Cheeks stained with more red, Daniel halfheartedly glared his sister. She just giggled more, her adorableness amplified. Sighing at his sister's cute looks, Daniel seized a napkin and gently wiped the sauce from her cheeks. Unconsciously, a smile lit up Harry's lips as he sipped his tea once more. Whether or not they realized it, this is the first time the Potter siblings had spent time together.

"So, what electives will you take for your third year?"

Daniel swallowed, beads of sweat formed his forehead and it trickled down his cheek. "C-Care of magical creatures…" Harry nodded approvingly.

"And the other one?" Daniel stuttered more nervously, garbling something. "What was that? I didn't quite catch it."

"I-I s-said Divination!"

Silence greeted them, except for Rosaline, whom was devouring her meal messily, clueless to the tense atmosphere encircling her.

"What…" Daniel squirmed edgily in his seat, wincing at his brother's venomous tone, anxiety amassing in his chest. "Why in our family's name and our grandparents' ghosts, are you taking that useless of a subject? Callista would be apoplectic if she was here… She prohibited Sheila or any of us to take that garbage."

"U-um R-Ron said it was an easy score a-and he was taking the subject as well…"

"I knew he's a bad influence for you." Daniel endeavored to object at this, but knew when to keep his mouth a tight shut. "Take Ancient Runes instead, and drop Divination. If I find that you are still taking Divination, there will be consequences and I ain't kidding around, brat, I'm serious. I told you to take your studies more seriously. You'd best maintain your excellent results and not drop your grades from now on either, or else."

"Alright…" Daniel murmured, knowing how solemn his brother is. "I'll write to Professor McGonagall after this."

"This is for your own good, brat. Learning Ancient Runes will assist you more in the future. Just be thankful I didn't force you into taking Arithmancy instead. There's no such thing as easy way in life. It's always the hard way. Drill that into your head and stop making stupid decisions. If you want to rely on luck for the rest of your life, then you're more suited to be a Leprechaun. I can arrange that if you want."

Daniel toyed his food, face fell. The way his brother uttered it, it was as if Harry was ashamed of him. Oh great, the first heartfelt compliment from his older brother, and he blew it. He didn't like it when his brother was disappointed of him, he preferred more of Harry praise. He felt cheated, since he knew his brother's deepest secret, yet he failed him by letting him down. From that point on, Daniel was resolved on making Harry proud of him. Someone tugged the hem of his sleeve and Daniel looked down at his sister's concerned face.

"It's nothing, Rosaline. Go finish your food and clean yourself up afterwards." Rosaline did as her brother requested her to, like any good little girl, and silenced herself for once. She wasn't as naïve as people thought. She knew that her big brother, Harry, had just scolded her other big brother, Daniel.

Rising up from the chair, Harry hovered his plate and cup to the sink.

"Rosaline, after you finish, just go to my room. Your present should be on my bed. I'm almost late for my Quidditch practice, so I won't be around."

"Okay, Hawwy," Rosaline chirped, returning back to her previous cheerful mood.

Harry kissed on top of her head affectionately causing the little girl to giggle. "You'd better not disappoint me again, brat," he warned, observing his brother, who's back straightened in affirmation. "R-right I-I won't!" Harry bobbed his head. That smile on Harry's lips didn't last long as two of his parents arrived, both in their night attire.

"Mommy, Daddy!" Rosaline grinned, her hair was still messy from sleep.

James and Lily Potter were stunned to discover that all of their children gathered in the kitchen, what's more two of their youngest were with their eldest.

"Morning Mom, Dad." Daniel smiled, resuming back to his meal. "Both of you should try Harry's cooking, it's really good. Right, Rosy?"

"Yeah!" she asserted enthusiastically, rubbing her little stomach. "Yum!"

Harry's eyes locked onto his parents'. He chewed his bottom lips, his heart thumping violently for no reason at all. He desperately wished to say something, yet something thwarted him. His tongue just lolled over and his hands grounded into tight fists. The two youngest siblings were unmindful to the soundless confrontation and the atmosphere sinking to coldness, repelling away the last bit of warmness. Harry's lips quivered, struggling to erect his best smile for them. He failed. His smile was strained.

When Lily opened her mouth he instinctively interjected her with, "I woke up early and decided to cook something. It's simple, but it's enough for the rest of the fam- for the rest of us. There's more for you two by the pot."

"It's nice of you, Harry-"

Harry quickly interrupted his mother for the second time, "Well, I have to go now, I'm already late for something." With those quick words, Harry hastened out of the kitchen. "Harry, wait-" He skillfully dodged his father's hand and quickened his pace. His ears went deaf to the shouts of his father for him. Lily looked where to his son had just left and emitted a sad sigh.

Daniel and Rosaline exchanged baffled looks. "Uh, Mom? D-did we… miss something?"

Lily smiled, though it wavered. "It's nothing Daniel… It's just something between us and your brother. Nothing to worry about," reassured Lily.

The sound of James calling out for Harry could still be heard. Contrary to what everyone thought of, Daniel can be very astute to his environments if needs arise. If he didn't know any better, he says Harry was very uncomfortable with their parents. A blind man could tell that his brother's smile was too forceful. So could Rosaline. Confusion marred her adorable features as she looked over Daniel for an answer. Daniel just shrugged his shoulders in reply.

* * *

><p>Harry's feet slammed on the ground and he mustered all of his concentration to not fall from travelling by Portkey. As soon as his father began to get a bit too close for comfort, he used his Puddlemere badge, which served as a Portkey, and took him away from the Potter mansion. Thank god there wasn't an anti-Portkey ward. He didn't take a shower, he merely changed out of his night garment, washed his face and brushed his teeth. He was too hasty to get out of the mansion to have a proper shower, but figured he could have one after training, which would be later at night. If it wasn't for his desire to escape the mansion as fast as he could, he would have shower.<p>

It wasn't that he didn't crave to repair the tension between him and his parents, it's the fact he's still not at ease being in the same room with them. Even if his desire was great, he would still be uncomfortable with his parents. Harry sighed under his breath. It would take a very long time before the three of them settled down and partook in a proper conversation.

He surveyed the buildings in front of him, concealing his amazement at the size of them. Puddlemere's headquarters never ceased astounding him. Feeling smug given that he had not fallen on his arse after using Portkey, he took a step forward. Unfortunately, it triggered his body to lose balance and he tripped, releasing a high pitched yelp whilst his body ineptly plunged to the ground. Growling in aggravation, he glared at the ground, blaming it for his clumsiness.

"I'd better not see you playing like that in the upcoming tournament, kid. It was worse than pathetic." Harry only knew one person with a tongue that was so sharp it couldn't measure up to anyone else's. He hauled himself up from the ground, grunting at the man. The Coach was still the same as the last time Harry met him, aged with tremendous height, rough-looking facial features, broad shoulders, a peculiar mix of white-blond hair and arresting blue eyes.

"Welcome back, kid. Now, come along. Everyone's waiting in my office," Philbert Deverill barked, already retreating into the large main building.

Harry marveled why the Coach didn't just dispatch someone to greet him.

"Its standard protocol, kid. It's the Coach's job to greet their players," Deverill grouchily answered the unasked question.

"I didn't say anything, Coach." Deverill merely grunted in response.

Harry rolled his eyes, typical for the man. He pursued the man, trailing not too far behind. Along the way, Harry acknowledged people, players and employees alike. They were welcoming him back and some were glad for him to be here. Harry returned their gestures with slight awkwardness. Seeing the Coach going in his office, Harry lugged behind him. It was the polite thing to do. Then he entered the room, blinking his eyes a few times at the sight of Peter Gandalf and Jocelind Wadcock.

"Ah, Mr. Potter! It's good to see you again!" As usual, the Puddlemere's scout as well as the financial manager of the team was exuberant as ever.

"Um, so are you, Mr. Gandalf." Harry still had a difficult time not to freak out by the man.

Wadcock good-naturedly slapped him on the back. "It's good to have you back, mate."

"Enough with the pleasantries, you can all go squishy later!"

Harry murmured to the captain of Puddlemere's, "Is the Coach still like this?"

"The Coach never changes, mate. If he did, that's the end of the Wizarding world."

"Yeah, but I think he's more snappish than the last time."

"With the stress he's dealing right now, it's no wonder why his bad-temper isn't receding."

"What do you mean?" Harry was confounded by his captain's response.

"Potter, are you listening?" Deverill's voice boomed.

Transferring his attention to the man, Harry remarked, "Are you speaking to me, Coach?"

The man kneaded his temples, an angry vein popped in his forehead.

"I said you're going to train with the main players from now on! Merlin, kid, pay attention, will you?" Soothing his fury, he continued, "You and Raesly will be placed with the main players from now on, kid. Both of you will take turns participating in the official matches. I'm not sure putting you for the entire game would be wise, kid. I admit you're talented and in synch with both main Chasers, Wadcock and Griffiths, but I don't think you would do well under the pressure of playing full game. So, from time to time, Raesly will take your place. He's been in the reserve players for four years now and he did well in the tournament when he substituted the injured players."

Harry's lips thinned disapprovingly. "Raesly? Roy Raesly?"

Raesly was perhaps, the most arrogant person Harry ever met in his entire life and he didn't get along with the man well. The man downright hated him, especially after the match against Montrous Magpies in the last British and Irish Quidditch tournament where Harry was heralded as a _hero_.

"What about Brien Carras? He's the oldest member of the team. Don't tell me you're singling him out, Coach?" reasoned Harry. "He's much more skilful and experience than Raesly. He's way nicer too. Raesly's got attitude problem."

"And you don't, kid?" Flustered, Harry directed his most fierce and lethal look to the Coach.

"Ah, you see, Mr. Potter, that's just it," Gandalf butted in. "Mr. Carras has chosen to retire from playing Quidditch. He's now happily working at the ministry, under the head of the Department of Magical games and sports, Ludo Bagman."

Harry soured up at the news, running a hand through his hair. "I thought he was going to play for a couple of years more…"

"We thought so too, mate, but that isn't the bigger problem here." Wadcock couldn't ward the frown off his face, even Gandalf grimaced.

Deverill grumbled, "Aye, much worse…"

"What's more worst than not having Carras with us?"

"Supposed you haven't heard the news yet then? I thought Lord Greengrass would have told you." Wadcock sighed morosely. "It's Benjy, mate. He's not on the team anymore."

"What!" Harry rounded his captain. "What do you mean Williams's not on the team anymore? What the hell happen to him? Is he alright?"

"Oh no, Mr. Potter, you're quite mistaken. Mr. Williams didn't receive any heavy injuries or dealing with life threatening situation, none of that. In all actuality, he has transferred…well… to Montrous Magpies…"

Harry chocked on his saliva this time, his shock escalating. "What!" He was more than outraged, banging his fist on Coach's table. "He could have gone to any team, but Magpies? Williams is barking mad!" Harry had never quite exactly forgiven the Magpies' Beaters for striking the back of his head quite hard with one of the Bludgers. His head has never been the same since. Thank god, the old man repaired his head back to the way it used to be. If not, Harry was positive he'd have serious problems with his studies and his memories.

"Calm down, kid. I understand you're mad. But, taking it out on my desk isn't doing you any good! Blimey, kid! Do you want me to cut off your hand! That's _my _desk you're hitting!" Deverill bashed his own desk with more force than Harry had.

Dismissing the man, Harry carried on, "Why did he do it anyway? Is Puddlemere not satisfying enough for him?"

Wadcock shrugged his shoulders. "Their scout approached Williams in the last three months and persuaded him on transferring to Magpies. They offered him more than what Puddlemere can bargain. I think any player would be insane turning down _that_ offer."

"But, I thought Williams was considerate enough to stay loyal in Puddlemere regardless what the other teams might barter with him… Can't he see that we're able to win the tournament for the second time? Now, without him… it's going to be a long road in the tournament…"

Gandalf smiled sympathetically at him. "Mr. Potter, I understand you're quite upset with the news, we all are. But, there is not much we can do."

"Yeah, but…"

"This is the reality, mate. Sometimes we forgot that you're new to this professional stuff and ignorant to how things going around here. Look at Wilda, she was once the star Chaser of Holyhead Harpies, but transferred to our team because we offered her something she couldn't resist."

"I guess…" Harry frowned, creasing his forehead. "If he's not the Seeker anymore, then what are we going to do? Williams is one of the best Seekers around. Compared to the reserve Seekers… hell, they're not even remotely close to his skills. Also, I'm pretty sure the Magpies will be a much tougher team this year."

"That's what we are trying to figure out, kid." Deverill's fingers clasped together, his chin rested on top of his hands. "It's too late for us to scout a talented seeker. We're in a sticky situation but this is what we are going to do. I'll need to focus every bit of my time training the reserve Seekers before the tournament. Pray one of them will at least be decent enough. Wadcock,-" The captain looked up. "-you'll have to take my place and prepare the team by yourself for the time being, some of the trainers will help you out. Go with the usual routine, you understand? Let the kid adjust to a much tougher drills and if Raesly is too much of a prick, then let him be the sole target of the Bludgers for the rest of training. That will shut him up. The same goes to the kid if he ever whines."

Harry's eyes twitched madly, smiling sweetly at the last comment. The impulse of strangling the man was almost overwhelming.

"Understood, Coach," Wadcock solemnly complied. "Let's go, mate, I'll guide you to your new locker."

Harry took a deep breath, pacifying his emotions. Though, seeing Deverill's smirk, he lost it. Fortunately, Wadcock saw this and yanked him forcefully by the arm. The captain of Puddlemere United had no qualms that the kid would assault their Coach if his patience wasn't anywhere in sight. Harry, instead, settled with glaring the man from faraway, grumbling and looking obviously displeased.

* * *

><p>With Quidditch training gear on, his Nimbus 2001 flung to his shoulder, Harry walked side by side with Wadcock. Harry was grousing something about the Coach, muttering in not-so-hush tone on plotting ways to humiliate the man. Grinning, Wadcock's eyes glittered amusedly, but he didn't bother reproaching the young man. He found it quite amusing that every single player, counting himself, were so fearful and showed absolute obedient to the Coach, whilst the kid displayed none of those.<p>

Appearing at the field that was intended for the main players only, both was greeted by a familiar haughty voice.

"Oh great… Who let Potter in? What's wrong? You lost Potter? This place isn't for snobby kids, so run along and let the grownups handle this."

"As a matter of fact, I am lost, you don't mind showing me to the second field, would you?" Harry countered with a snide. "Of course, following a berk would be a sign of apocalypse for me. Though it may have to do with someone who's a complete duffer and that, he would only lead people nowhere but lost."

"Why you…"

"Raesly, that's enough!" Wadcock shielded Harry and protected him from the fellow by stepping in front of the kid. "If you got a problem, take it to Coach! He's the one who handed out the order. Either that, shut up and listen to me, I'm the Captain around here. And, you need to lay off Raesly, Potter."

The man smoldered in rage, but shut himself up.

Harry rolled his eyes, muttering, "What a pillock."

Wadcock shot him with a look to back off and Harry elevated his hands in surrender. He then strolled to the rest of the main players when they waved him over. For the better, most of the main players he knew were still there, the two Beaters, Maxwell Montmerry and Katy Fonger, the Keeper, Casper Doukas, and lastly, the other main Chaser, Wilda Griffiths. Harry nodded in acknowledgement after they greeted him with visible relief. It's no surprise that Raesly is not the most popular around. A loud whistle attracted their attention and without wasting any more time, Wadcock commenced the training.

Harry suppressed a groan and did as he was instructed without much of complaint. He hasn't had shower yet, his head was more or less on the edge of explosion with all the problems pressuring his brain and he's unquestionably not in the mood for nine hours training Quidditch. Damn it, the Coach was right about him. If it weren't for the Coach's words, he might bleat to Wadcock.

* * *

><p><strong>26 July 1993.<strong>

The wind howled viciously. Harry grounded his teeth furiously at the ferocity as he nearly lost control of his broom. Rain was bucketing down unremittingly over the area. He had to reaffirm his hold on the Quaffle, for multiple times it had almost slipped from his grasp. Broom wriggling a bit from the wind, he cleaved his broom steadfastly, not leading it anywhere but his destination. Narrowing his enticing emerald eyes beneath the goggles he was forced to wear, he spotted an incoming Bludger just upfront. With this heavy rain and near zero visibility, he swerved his broom violently, shirking the Bludger.

Today's match was between Kenmare Kestrals and Puddlemere United. The weather today was grating on Harry's nerves. It affected his performance deeply. His flying was not suave as it always been. One thing for certain, he hated playing Quidditch when it was raining, mostly because the heavy droplets from the dark clouds shrouded his vision. It was slowing him down greatly. Not to mention this was the worst weather Harry had ever played in his entire life. Even without thunderstorms conquering the clouds, the heavy rains still didn't bode well with Harry.

Shivers ran down his spine, spreading all around his body. He was soaked to his skin and frozen, hardly able to see the Quidditch pitch, let alone his teammates.

The worst part was he had been under such weather for a long time now. This proved that he's still lack of experience in the professional field. In Hogwarts, someone would've caught the Snitch after playing the game for an hour, be it any team. Hogwarts, by now, would have finished the game already. Yet, in the professional field the Snitch was much harder to catch and speedier than Hogwart's Snitch. With this weather, the difficulty of catching the Snitch was bordering the impossible. A professional game would've generally taken up two to three hours in concluding the game and Harry knew that.

However, in the last tournament he had only been playing for an hour or so, no more than that. Now, as he flew around with his Nimbus 2001 for an hour and twenty five minutes, parts of his body began to feel numb from exposing himself to coldness for such hours. He loathed admitting it, but the Coach was right. Harry was not good enough at handling the pressure of playing a full professional game. It's frightening how the Coach knew him quite well. Harry thought only the girls would thoroughly understand him, inside and outside, and not anyone else.

His breath grew shabby as Griffiths waved her right hand frantically for him to pass. With great care, Harry took aim and threw it to her. Out of the blue, a Bludger smashed his forearm painfully the instant Quaffle was released. Gasps resonated across the stadium, no doubt from the crowds. His broom spun violently without direction whilst Harry hollered in pain, but he abruptly regained control of his broom again and simply hovered in the air for a while.

He stretched his arm and relief swelled his chest. He was thankful the protection gear that sheltered his arm. Although the gear itself was torn to pieces, it didn't matter since he could still play. While the roars of approval from the crowds overwhelmed the heavy thud of rain, Harry mopped both of his goggles to get a better view. A little portion of uneasiness elevated in his chest as Griffiths scored another points for Puddlemere. Swerving his broom around, Harry united back with Wadcock and Griffiths, now defending. Pulling back his wet hair, Harry let loose a huge breath.

"Alright, mate?" Wadcock shouted for Harry to hear.

Not fancy to come clean with his weakness, Harry built up his most rough expression and thumbed up. It was not a successful attempt, nevertheless. In truth, it looked ludicrous on him with his body trembling all over. Wadcock and Griffiths traded disbelieving looks, unsure whether they ought to laugh at the hilarious sight or be worry of his wellbeing. It's palpable to them that Harry was not custom to cold weather as he was virtually freezing to death. Little by little, his performance was dwindling away as he spent more time in the air.

Regardless, he can still score and passed the Quaffle to them accurately, giving them no reason to chuck the kid out of the game. No, not yet. He wasn't showing any sign of renouncing the game and he was essential in the game. Confirming two of the Chasers' attentions were on him, Wadcock presented the next formation by using hand-signs. Both nodded their head in understanding. At this, Wadcock and Griffiths distanced themselves from Harry, disappearing through the heavy curtain of rain. Harry knew the job he was given by Wadcock and it was to distract the opponents, as well as to utilize the weather.

Locating the three Chasers, Harry darted to them, charging straight on. He sensed two incoming Bludgers from each sides and he dived his broom before they could collide him. He raced to one of the Chasers of which was carrying the Quaffle. The remaining Chasers were trying to block his way and he skillfully dodged the first attempt. Unfortunately, with the rain, a hand got to him. Though, with incredible luck, Harry managed to duck his head but in its place, the hand caught his goggles and the Chaser ripped them off his face. Harry's head was thrown aback when the Chaser did that to him.

Harry snarled for losing his goggles and the pain, nonetheless didn't waver his advance. Striving for the Quaffle, Harry stole it efficiently from the player. With that, he didn't waste time veering his broom sharply and took off to the other side of the goal posts. He had to flutter his eyes rapidly due to the loss of his goggles. Widening eyes momentarily, he dipped his head down, scarcely avoiding a Bludger. Glancing at his surroundings, he noticed that the three opponent Chasers were cornering him at both sides and in front. Determination was set on his face as he tried to shake them off, taking advantage the rain.

What they weren't aware of, was Harry releasing the Quaffle in the middle of flying aimlessly and Wadcock caught it. By the time, they realized it, Wadcock had passed it to Griffiths and no one was marking her, leading to another set of points for Puddlemere. Harry placidly repositioned himself back with his teammates, shuddering all the way. Ruffling his wet hair to get rid of the water, he also wiped his face with his two glove hands. Harry didn't know why, but is it him, or the rain was becoming heavier than the usual?

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes had gone by, and Harry barely felt his hands holding onto the broom. The rain wasn't lessening. It was doing the opposite. Keeper Doukas made a stunning block by kicking the Quaffle away from entering one of the hoops. Wadcock quickly went for the Quaffle and hit it strongly with the tail of his broom. The Quaffle bounced to Griffiths and she snatched it. Despite the blurry vision, Harry commanded his broom, pushing it to its highest speed. He looked over his shoulders. Griffiths was keeping up with him.<p>

He did not decelerate the speed of his broom to hang around for her.

One hand steering the broom and another opened to the direction of Griffiths, silently requesting for the Quaffle. Griffiths was struggling to situate it on Harry's palm. Succeeded in her task, a grin curved her lips and she screamed words of encouragement for Harry. She slowed down her broom after that. Harry kicked off the broom up a notch more as he convinced the Quaffle was in his possession, disregarding the rain whipping against his face. The intensity of the wind was proving to be hard for him. Nonetheless, he didn't back down, he was almost there.

He clutched the Quaffle strongly.

Eyes large, Harry moved his head to the right, and a rapid Bludger whizzed past him. Now panting, Harry loudly bellowed a battle cry, picking his broom up the pace more and more. Harry faked a convincing shoot for the Keeper except he didn't fall for it. Once Harry threw it to the last goal, the Quaffle was deflected by the Keeper. By now, every professional Quidditch player in the tournament grasped Harry style of play. Of course, Harry comprehended that the same trick doesn't work twice. What they didn't know was Harry never the type to give up a fight. Like a bullet, Harry sprung for the Quaffle.

His broom was plummeting to the ground at breakneck speed, urging his broom through the turbulent air. The Quaffle was almost contacting the ground.

"Come on!" Harry bawled at his broom, left hand stretching out for the Quaffle. "_Faster_!"

Now with just meters more above the ground, he glanced behind him, spotting his Captain in a flash. At this, Harry right away slapped the Quaffle up the sky, straight to Wadcock. "Go!" was what manage Harry to exclaim before him and his broom crashed to the muddy ground. Harry, not looking forward to another episode of his broom being destroyed by such impact, he unthinkingly embraced it to his chests and used his body to screen it. Body slid to the ground painfully, and then rolled around for while before coming to a halt, supine and immobile.

Perceiving the boisterous approval cheers from the crowds, Harry circled his body around, lying flatly and his eyes gazed up the sky. He was wheezing for air, chests heaving up and down. Splattered with mud from head to toe, he ignored it. Body aching excruciatingly from the fall, he ignored it. He clenched his broom and his head twisted to it. He was relieved to see it was not damage. Then, he looked up the sky, rain pouring down on him. That, he ignored it as well. A lazy smirk curled his lips as he knew another points was awarded to Puddlemere. Every last person in the stadium had better have caught the insane stunt Harry just pulled, because in the near future, he would not be doing it again.

Still breathing heavily, Harry's eyes tiredly fell for darkness, drifting to drowsiness.

* * *

><p>"The lad got some fighting spirit in him, a'right."<p>

"Hmm hmm, that was some fall from him."

"Didn't his profile say he's a Ravenclaw?"

"Seriously? With the stunt he pulled, I thought for sure he's in Gryffindor."

He could hear voices whispering around him. But, it made no sense to him, whatsoever. He didn't have a clue where he was, or how he'd got there, or what he'd been doing before he got there. All he knew was every inch of him was aching as though he had been beaten into a pulp.

Wind…rain…cold… passing the Quaffle to his Captain before…

Harry snapped his eyes open, and sat upright. Immediately, he regretted it as he groaned at the strain of his body began its onslaught.

"Mate!" said Wadcock, who was extremely soaked under the mixture of water and mud. "How're you feeling?"

"Forget that. What about the match? What happened?"

That drew slight chuckles all around. Trust the kid to look right through the pain.

"Harry, we lost…" smiled Griffiths, a little bit forlorn, from behind Wadcock.

"What? B-but, we're in the lead!"

"It's not your fault, Potter." It's from one of the two beaters, Maxwell Montmerry. "We didn't stand a chance with their seeker. Theirs was more superior to ours, so it's no one fault, really. It's just our luck the snitch was right beside the opponent's seeker."

Katy Fonger, another beater, nodded her head. "So, take it easy, Harry. We'll get another chance."

"Yeah, but-" Harry abruptly halted his sentence after spotting Doukas vainly keeping his face straight. "Hold on, I smell something fishy around here." He scrutinized each of them warily. "You all have been playing me, haven't you? I knew it! You've all have been teasing me non-stop ever since I got back!" They did laugh at _his_ demise. "So what? Did we win or not?"

"Hey, chill out, Potter." Montmerry chuckled contentedly.

"Don't worry, mate," said Wadcock, grinning widely. "We did win."

"Your last stunt made a difference out of them. It completely demoralized them after watching that." Fonger beamed at him.

"Yeah, it's a shame you fainted from such fall," Griffiths asserted, tousling his hair.

Harry grunted irritatingly at the woman's gesture and eluded her second attempt.

"No… even if I didn't pass out, I don't think I can handle under the duress of playing a full game. Usually in Hogwarts, the match ended after an hour or so. In professional, it drags me on for hours and hours. Also, if you all remember, I only played for hour or a half of hour in the last tournament. Don't get me wrong, I love flying and Quidditch, but I don't think two hours up in the air does me any good. Damn…the Coach was right…"

"Damn straight, I'm right!"

Harry puffed out a frustrated sigh at that very familiar tone.

His teammates grinned at his disgruntled expression and one by one, they dispersed, leaving him and Deverill alone.

"Hey, wait! Where do you think you all going? Don't leave me with him behind!"

"Sorry mate, gotta go." Wadcock winked as he was the last one to exit the infirmary.

"Oh great," Harry muttered. "You're not going to lecture my outrageous flying, are you, Coach?" He was being cynical. "If you are, I'm sorry to say that I'll have to pass on your oh-so-exciting words."

"What are you saying, kid? What you did earned approval from me! I always hoped that the cowards I've been training would do the same thing like you did, but none of them had the guts like you do."

"Really?" That's the highest praise anyone could get from the grumpy man. "Uh… Thanks Coach?"

"You must be joking, right kid?" Harry's expression morphed to exasperation. "What you did was really stupid. There are times in a battle when it's best to retreat."

"But to those who took the first initiative and willed themselves in motivation can lead us to victory."

"You're full of yourself, aren't you, kid?"

"And you aren't, Coach?"

It was an intense silence for a few minutes and the two were unaffected by the pressure.

"Tell me, Potter… You never lose in any competitions or fights that you participated, did you?" Deverill was somber, pondering.

Harry felt bewilderment at those words. "Like everyone, I have my ups and downs, Coach. There is no such thing as constant winning in one's life. That's absurd."

"Is that right, kid?" Deverill drawled. "I think you misunderstand me. Have you ever experienced losing at a game or in a competition?"

"Of course I-" Harry scrunched his forehead. "Why are you looking at me like that? I did lose to someone many times. I never won against to an old man I know of. Notwithstanding how much hard work I am in _certain _department, he still defeats me."

"Ah, I see… so you lose to one person, not in a game nor a competition, or any of those sorts that involves with lots of people."

Harry frowned at where this conversation is leading. "It's still counts as defeat, doesn't it? So to your question, yes, I have experienced losing in my life."

"Well, let me rephrase that, kid. Have you ever undergone the feeling of losing in a game or something?"

"What do you mean by that?" Harry's frown deepened. "What's the difference to those questions?"

Deverill shook his head, "Kid, you should _feel_ losing early in your life, before you grow accustom to winning. It's a bad thing for you. Some people aren't fortunate enough to feel losing later in their life, even if this is a rare case."

"Coach, you've totally confused me now. I have no idea what you are on about."

"Forget it," Deverill brusquely cut off the conversation. "Now, onto the more serious part. I'll just cut straight to the point on how serious your injuries are. Kid, you're not going to play for the next game. For you to heal completely it will take two days-" Harry protested to this. "-Hey, hey, listen!" That silenced Harry. "I know you will miss the next match but we don't have much of a choice. Look, as much as we both don't like this situation, it's for the best. Your muscles have been torn apart from that fall. The Healers did their best in repairing it, but it will still take you two days to be in your top condition. I, for one, think this will be the best. Putting you in the game while you're in a recovery is not an excellent idea, kid and I believe in these two days will prepare you, not only physically but mentally as well. After our match with Tutshill Tornados, we're going up against…"

"The Magpies…" Harry breathed, realization sunk him.

"That's right and Puddlemere need every best player they got if they're going to survive against Magpies. I know you're still bummed about what happened with Williams and chances are we're going to lose. Odds are against us in this tournament."

"Don't say that, Coach." Harry scowled. "You never know the outcome of the future. I say we can still win. We beat them once, then we'll just have to do again."

"Kid, I don't know if you realize this or not, but every professional player has already memorized your style of play. You can't score continuously anymore. You're good… Merlin, you're my best player, kid! But, your tricks have already run out, it won't work anymore. What's more, our best Seeker is on the opponent's team and I don't care what you're saying, but in Quidditch, the Seeker is the key to attaining the victory."

"We've done so well in the tournament without Williams-"

"We can't rely on luck for the rest of the tournament, kid! Listen to yourself! This is what I meant by becoming too attached to winning!" Deverill yelled. He heaved a sigh after that, now feeling very old. "Your confidence is something, kid, I salute you for that. But, having high hopes is bad, very bad. So don't do that, kid, it will just disappoint you if things aren't exactly as you plan out. We can plan as much as we want to, but not things go the way we want." Deverill rose from the seat he's been occupying. "For the better, kid, I think we should get ourselves knock out from this tournament and I think Magpies will help us that."

"You're insane, Coach. Why would you want that? You told me yourself that winning the cup is everything to a professional team. That, the cup is your golden ticket for better life and now, you're throwing away what you're fighting for?"

"Kid, I know what I'm saying. I've been a Quidditch player before I became a Coach. Quidditch is my life and I see many things in my life already. I'm approaching sixty five now." Deverill's expression was undeniably grave. "I saw potential players I trained rise to fame and they fall after another player trounced them. I saw how injuries stole their abilities to play Quidditch and that, it destroyed them." He exhaled his breath noisily. "I trained someone like you once. He was a promising player, a very promising one. The funny thing, kid? He was like you. I asked him once if he ever 'lose' Quidditch to anyone in his life and his answer to my question was no. He exhibited great confidence in his answer. When we lost in a game, he never played with us. Sometimes, injuries prevent him or sometimes, I deliberately didn't put him in the game. He was a lot like you that it almost hard for me to differentiate you both. There was one time he played in a game and we…we lost…" The man was engrossed in his own little story. "You know what it did to him, kid? It crushed him completely. He was too affixed to victory, that the thought of losing never cross his mind. He was in his middle age. After that game, he disappeared, and no one ever heard of him…" He blew out a shaky breath. "Last time I did heard him was he died in the first war and you know what the worst part is? He was on the wrong side. That's right, I found out he joined with you-know-who… I never think a brilliant man such as him would sink so low…"

Deverill glanced Harry over his shoulder with those cold arresting blue eyes. "I'll be damned if I let another person, especially one as young as you are, turn out like him. We did get to taste being number one in the last tournament, so it's fine if we don't get to be in this tournament. I know what I say about winning the cup is important to us, but the way I personally see it, my players' life are more important than some useless trinkets. There are more important things in this life than victory, kid."

Harry opened his mouth, but closed it, didn't know how to respond to the man's little tale.

"Well, I'm different from him, Coach. I'm more of… special case…" Harry choked out the words, looking away.

"That's what he said…" Deverill said. "Rest, just rest, you'll need it. Focus on healing, Potter. We'll discuss more about the tournament after you recover."

* * *

><p><strong>29 July 1993.<strong>

Whistling in familiar tune, Harry shuffled his way out of the bathroom. There were still droplets of water on his hair and his body. Eyes roamed to the Daily Prophet on his desk, and Harry grunted, disgruntled over the news. It was yesterday's paper and on the sports section, it detailed Puddlemere United was beaten by Tutshill Tornados. He tousled his hair, still frustrated over the defeat. If he was to play with the rest, there's no doubt victory would be in their grasp. But no, instead, he was on house-arrest.

Once the Coach made up his mind on something, it's absolute, no changing at the last minute whatsoever. Harry had been in an extremely bad mood for the last two days. But the worst thing in his house-arrest was his parents trying to spend time with him. Not desiring to strain their relationship further with his bad mood, Harry locked himself in his room, only sneaking around the house to get something to eat.

Although he did get pleasure out of his little brothers discomfort after he unintentionally caught him dressing in woman's clothes, while playing with his little sister. Rosaline even called him Miss Danny in one of their playtimes. Each time Daniel perceived someone calling him 'Danny', he couldn't stop blushing furiously. One thing for certain, it proved his little brother loved their younger sister so much to the point that he couldn't bring himself to rebuff any of Rosaline's requests, even if it is deeply humiliating.

If Harry was honest, he would reject playing with Rosaline if he had to wear a dress that was specifically designed for women. Where Rosaline attained such dress that fitted Daniel's size, Harry had no idea. Passing the long mirror, Harry admired his muscular body, smiling a little. His eyes traced the muscles of his body, from his collarbones, the blade of his shoulders, his arms and then, down to his stomach, shaping the v-shape figure. He did really grow up from the little Harry. His mood lightened up a bit at this.

He had to admit, his body did look gorgeous. With all his vigorous Muggle martial arts training from the old man, and with Quidditch on top, it's no surprise. Moreover, he privately upped an extra training session in the early morning for himself. It's no wonder the girls blushed heavily when they caught more than a glimpse of his shirtless body or when he simply wore sleeveless shirt.

Appreciating the structure of his body one last time, he began to prepare himself for the day.

The Coach was right, mused Harry in the midst of putting his clothes on, he is full of himself.

* * *

><p>A green fire burst from the fireplace of the hall of Puddlemere United's Headquarter.<p>

"Uah!" yelped Harry.

People who were passing by watched in great amusement at the youngest member of their club landed in an improper heap. Rosy red bloomed on his cheeks, and he glowered each of them, daring them to comment on his mortification. Grumbling, he mutely cursed his lack of skill concerning magical travel. He just didn't get it. He was excellent in different fields such as physical combat and Quidditch, but he was terrible once it related to magical transportation. Maybe it's the price for being natural in other stuff, so in turn he has zero talent when it involves magical transportation. Harry's face dusted with more red as Wadcock and Griffiths approached him.

"Mate, seriously, can't you stay away from injuries just for a while? We're not even in the official match yet. For Merlin's sake, Harry, you_ really_ can't stay away from troubles, can you? You even beat my record on my times in the infirmary!" laughed Wadcock, Griffiths giggled behind the man. Harry's glare, if possible, increased tenfold. Both of them just laughed harder, unfazed by it. The captain presented his hand to the young man. Harry gratefully clasped his hand to it and he was pulled up. More of a habit than necessity, Harry brushed at the specks of dirt on his clothes. "I just don't get it. From what we could tell in your profile, you got excellent results in your studies, as well as nearly describe _perfect_ by most people. Hell, you even outclass most adults in Quidditch. So, how come you always fell on your arse in travelling magically?"

"No idea," Harry tersely answered. "It's a curse, I tell you. It must be in the Potter's genes."

Some time ago, Harry witnessed both of his younger siblings not doing so well after experiencing magical travel, be it by means of Floo, Portkeys or Apparition. For Rosaline's case, she will felt nausea rising up and it took a few minutes for her to cool it down. What's worse, occasionally she vomited from it. For Daniel's case, he would slip and fall in a much more embarrassing manner than Harry. It doesn't matter if the ground was soft or hard, he would still slip. It was as if there was some kind of liquid to make the ground slippery.

Therefore, Harry had concluded that since every Potter is natural at something, they're awful in magical transportation, with the exception for brooms.

"Don't worry, Harry, I'm sure it will be 'cured' someday." Griffiths grinned, eyes glittered roguishly. "Or better yet, the curse will be lifted in the near future."

"Why can't any of you stop teasing me? I'm not a kid anymore."

"To Coach, you're still a kid, mate. He calls you that every time."

Harry swore under his breath, mentally imagining different kinds of torture for their Coach. One of those 'horrifying' tortures consisted in chaining up the Coach and tickling him to death with feathers. "Glad to see you two are joking around and not so down then."

"Oh, we are still a bit bummer, but it won't do us any good against the Magpies. We should just focus ahead, instead of looking back to our mistakes." Griffiths assented. By now, the three of them were striding over to the locker room.

"That's right… That's just how we are, 'moving forward' like the Coach told us to."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "He did?"

"Well, yeah. Every time we lose in a game, he never failed to remind us those words." Wadcock looked at him strangely. "You were with us, right?"

"C'mon, Joce. Harry was never around when we lost a match."

"Really?"

Griffiths nodded her head, eyeing Harry with strange curiosity. "Come to think of it, it's odd how we always lose whenever Harry wasn't there with us."

"Maybe that's the problem. It's a sin not to include him in every game," joked Wadcock, an amused look plastered on his face.

"I suppose…" Griffiths agreed. The two of them grinned in Harry's direction.

"I'm delighted the two of you were aware of my absence," said Harry mordantly. "What a deductive skill you two possess. I must take great caution in my actions from now on."

Wadcock punched him by the shoulder lightheartedly. "Oh, bugger off, mate. It's natural for you to play with us now."

"Is that right? And here I thought I was only a boy-scout."

"You still are…" Griffiths teasingly pinched Harry's right cheek.

"Oh, shut up, you!" Harry snapped at the woman. "For the hundredth time, I'm not a kid anymore so don't treat me as one!"

Wadcock dismissed them both as he mulled over something, more like someone. "I kind of feel sorry for Raesly though."

Harry's eyebrows creased together. "Why would you feel sorry for that berk?"

"Because he felt he was the reason why the team lost," said Griffiths. "He's probably blaming himself over the defeat."

"If you think about it, mate, it kind of… make sense."

"How so?" Harry wore his bored expression.

"Each time you played with us, we always won, even if you only played half of the game, and Raesly, the other half of it. And after you went to a recovery and he participated for a full game, the team's lost… Well, its obvious how Raesly going to take it, wouldn't it?"

"We tried consoling him, but it didn't work." Griffiths mumbled. "Katy and I even invited him to join us shower together, but he still won't budge."

Wadcock did a double take at that bold declaration, jaw's dropping. Harry's own face glowed with a brilliant shade of red at such thoughts.

"What?" Griffiths looked at the two males.

"You acted as if inviting a male to join a shower with you, is a daily thing to do!" Harry hissed, cheeks still warmed. "With Fonger no less!"

"Oh?" Griffiths was amused. "Harry, Harry, Harry… It's not like you haven't heard that line from anyone before. You said it yourself, you aren't a kid anymore."

"I am!"

"Then what's the harm of doing it? It's just teammates showering together, nothing more… Well, it depends on the situation, of course…" Griffiths now had conniving expression on her face. "Now that I see you in a different light, Harry… You are exceptionally handsome, and who knows what you've been hiding under that Muggle clothes of yours. So, how about it, Harry? Want to take up my offer on showering with me after practice, later? Who knows, it could lead to more… I bet Katy wouldn't mind joining us as well…"

"I think I'll pass, Griffiths," Harry grumbled.

"Are you sure? Just think how our bodies would mingle together and…" she trailed off good-naturedly.

Harry blushed harder at envisaging his two teammates' nude bodies pressing against his. He stomped his way to the locker room in a pace that's quicker than normal. The sultry smirk loitered across Griffiths's lips as she jogged to catch up with him, abandoning Wadcock whose jaw still hung open.

"Why didn't she offer it up to me? I'd gladly join her…" That was what he finally whispered once he was shaken out of his stupor.

* * *

><p>Roughly shoving Doukas and Montmerry aside, Harry marched to his locker. He deliberately missed their indignant shouts of 'Hey!' that were clearly aimed in his direction. Unlocking his locker, he snatched a towel and wiped the heavy sweats off his face. Wadcock just grinned at the kid's attitude, disheveling Harry's hair as he passed him by and proceeded to his own locker. At the casual gesture, a deep heavy growl surfaced from Harry's throat. He thought he made it comprehensible enough that he didn't like to be treated as a <em>kid<em>.

"Potter, Wilda is looking for you! She said the offer still stands! She's waiting for you to join her and Katy in the girl's locker right now!" Harry felt a rush of blood to his cheeks at the insinuation from Doukas. "Lucky sod, they never invited any of us…"

"Tell her to piss off!" Harry snarled, shrugging off his Quidditch practice gear along the way. "I'm not even remotely interested on picking up her offer."

It was another end of training session and Harry was drained of energy from the long hours of practice.

"Why? Wilda is hot, as is Katy. Neither is seeing anyone right now, so what's holding you back?" Montmerry cut in, locking his locker. His muscular body was exposed to nakedness apart from the towel, concealing his manhood. "Don't tell me you're batting for the other team, Potter?"

"Put a sock to it, Montmerry."

"Did ya?" Wadcock laughed, "We did heed to one of the rumors that you were a flirter in Hogwarts."

Banging his locker shut, Harry seated himself on the bench, still in his uniform. He rested his back against the locker, loosening his sore muscles.

"So, why didn't you, Potter?" Montmerry reiterated. "You know, take up Wilda's offer?"

"Because unlike males these days…" Harry articulated, closing his eyes patiently. "I don't just think on _sex_, or how _hot_ their bodies are. I maybe a flirter, but I am decent enough to respect women and not consider them as playthings. Besides-" Harry paused, and then murmured in trepidation tone, "-the girls will kill me if they find something like that."

"Point taken, mate." Wadcock grabbed another towel and mopped the sweat off his bare chest.

"Girl? Who is this girl?" Montmerry's curiosity peaked up, sliding a seat next to Harry.

"Max, he said 'girls' as in plural and that's more than one." Wadcock hurriedly shuffled over to them. "So who are they, mate? You're girlfriends? Keeping yourself to more than one woman, eh?"

"None of your business."

"Ah, c'mon, mate." Wadcock was adamant, slapping Harry's right shoulder lightly.

"One of them is gotta be Lord Greengrass's daughter, right?" Harry discounted the Beater's words, steadily closing his eyes. "I was right, didn't I?"

"Merlin, his daughter? Whoa, now that's a real beauty right there, mate. I laid my eyes on her, one time, when I visited the Greengrass manor with the Coach and-" Wadcock whistled in an appreciative tone, eyes unfocused for a little. "I might have a huge crush on her."

"That bad?"

Wadcock shrugged his shoulders. "It's not like I can help it, Max, she's very beautiful… She's not like everyday beautiful girls, she's more than that, like a Veela of sorts. Of course, I don't want my career to be terminated early, so I stay my distance away from her. It's not wise to make an enemy out of her father. But, I tell ya something, Max, she got most of her looks from her mother, that's for sure." Wadcock carried on the conversation, both men not noticing Harry's closed eyes jerked in annoyance.

"If you both desire to keep jobs for the remainder of your miserable life, then change topic and I may forget this discussion ever happen. If not, I might blurt something to Lord Greengrass in one of my conversation with him. I can't honestly imagine how furious he would be if two of his employees are fantasizing his wife and daughter." Harry peeked an eye at their expressions and was satisfied.

"Potter, Wilda is asking for you again!"

"Tell her I'm not interested, Doukas!" Harry yelled, snapping his eyes to fully open. "Why don't any of you go on my behalf?"

The three men swapped looks at Harry's words, before darting out of the men's locker room and elbowing each other along the way. Harry shook his head, mumbling something suspiciously sounded like 'crazy'. After several seconds, there were sounds of rustling, twin shrieks and several banging noises from the other side, combined with moans of pain. To Harry's admiration, he was greeted with the sight of three men flying out of the girl's locker with force Harry never thought could be possible from a woman.

An amuse smirk curled his lips as the Coach loomed over them and cast disparaging looks to each of them (Do you maggots have death wish, or something? Look at you buffoons, already hurt yourselves before the match even begin! Disgraceful lots! Get up!). Harry fluttered his eyes as Raesly walked in the locker room, disregarding his surroundings and Harry's blatant stares. The captain was accurate on how Raesly would beat himself over the team's defeat. The guy looked hopeless and blank. Harry didn't know what compel him to, but his mouth moved on its own accord.

"Hey pillock…" Harry mentally bashed his head on a wall and quickly regained himself, "I-I mean Raesly!" The guy overlooked it regardless of how clear Harry's tone was. "Are you deaf, Raesly? Hey, I'm speaking to you. I want to talk about the last match."

"What, Potter?" Raesly snapped, glaring the youngster with all the rage he could accumulate. It unnerved Harry a bit. "Are you trying to mock me, or ridicule me for losing the match? Take your pick, Potter!"

"Did I say that?" Harry inquired nonchalantly. "Did I, Raesly? Because, I'm sure I said 'I want to talk to you' and not 'ridicule you' as you eloquently put it."

"What else do you want to talk about? Fine, I screwed up, big time! I messed up! I admit I'm not good enough and don't have natural talents like you do! And, the team would have won if you were there!" Raesly roared, voice dribbling with so much venom. "There, I said it! Satisfied? Pleased? Overjoyed? Ecstatic, maybe?"

"I am." Straight away, Harry was on his toes and the neckline of his uniform was being gripped tightly. Raesly was preparing to pummel the kid, his right hand constricted into a fist and raised up. "Just for the record, satisfied and pleased are the same, so are overjoyed and ecstatic." Rage flooded him, and Raesly was more than ready to throw the first strike. "Well, what are you waiting for? Hit me." Raesly tried again, but couldn't bring himself to.

Harry's eyes glanced at the man's fist then to his face. "You're full of yourself, aren't you, Raesly? That's what you are, nothing but an arrogant man. You think the team lost was because of you? That's crap, Raesly and you know it. Just because I didn't play the last time, or that you play full time, doesn't mean anything. The team lost wasn't because of you, or anyone else. It's no one's fault. If we lose, then we lose, there's nothing we can do about it. In every game, there will always have the victor and the loser. But that's the point of competition, isn't it?"

"What are you trying to say, Potter?"

"Sheesh, watch where you're spitting and you better check your breath after this." Harry grimaced, cleaning the bits of Reasly's saliva off his face. "I'm saying you can act all sullen over the defeat, but don't ever, I mean _ever_, think the teams' loss is only on you. When the team suffers defeat, we all share the burden and when we win, we all celebrate it. That's the point of being in a team, isn't it? So, stop with this 'pity card' you're playing and start acting professional. If you want to rethink your mistakes, do it afterwards. If you want to carry on your despondent, then by all means, feel free to do so. If you even end up suicidal, hell, I'll cheer you on! But save those for later and not now, because we're going up against Magpies tomorrow."

Raesly slowly dropped his fist, his grip on Harry loosening considerably. "I-I guess you're right, Potter." Harry's words had touched him right to the heart.

"Riiight… Of course I am…" Harry drawled. "Can you let me go, now, dumbass? I don't know about you, but I am not planning to stay like this all day long."

Raesly growled and liberated Harry, but not without a good rough shove. Harry reeled in unfashionable way and fell on his arse, grunting. He rubbed his aching buttocks. Harry had to acknowledge Raesly's strength though, and with his tall height more superior to Harry's, it now caused Harry to reconsider his choice of words for the man in the near future. Raesly just glided pass him and straight to the shower. Harry's half lidded eyes gazed the man's retreating figure, before he swiveled his eyes back to upfront. A deep frown etched on his face.

There, by the door, four men were watching the whole confrontation. With a somber look and arms crossed over his chests, the Coach nodded his head approvingly. Wadcock, Montmerry and Doukas, all grinned and they seemed to have several missing teeth. Nevertheless, they gave Harry two thumb ups at his successful attempt, faces still covered with injuries inflicted by Griffiths and Fonger.

* * *

><p><strong>30 July 1993.<strong>

"Alright, you maggots, pipe it down!" The whispers around the room didn't abate. "I said, shut up! What are you cowards, deaf or something?" Harry was the only person who was still whispering, though he did it so purposely. "You wretched kid! If you don't shut your gob, I'll stuff your broom down your throat!" Harry was about to retort, but the Coach interrupted him, "I swear in Merlin's name, I'll do it, kid!"

Harry settled with bored expression instead and hushed himself, facing away. Sniggers and giggles rang across the room at the kid's attitude towards the intimidating man. Shaking his head, Deverill face palmed, marveling at how the hell he put up with the kid all this time. He swore he had new gray hairs and wrinkles from getting angry all the time. The source of all his fury was none other than from the kid himself. Conversely, Deverill did appreciate what the kid was trying to do. He was easing the players so they felt better about the task that lay ahead of them.

"You all know your stations for this match, aye?" All players nodded their heads. "We go as we planned and show them no mercy, even if one of them was once our own. Show them what it means to cross Puddlemere. Don't give those fools a chance and for Merlin sake, don't let Williams get anywhere near the Snitch. Keep the snitch out of his line of sight if you can!" People's mood dampened a bit at the mention of his name. "Look at you fools, looking like someone is dead or something… So what if Williams is on the opponent's team! He'll regret leaving Puddlemere! We don't need him! We have each other! We are Puddlemere United after all, so we don't easily give up!" The roars from the players were crammed with confidence and full-spirits. "Just remember, everyone…" The atmosphere changed at Deverill's soft tone. "This is the game we all love… There's no need to work hard over some trinket that we already have! Just enjoy the game and play like never before…" The Coach looked at each of his players with a proud face and smirked. "There is no place for me to be in this world, rather than being here with you maggots." This elicited smiles and grins from all the players. "Try not to get drunk on victory too much after we win this match and let's just focus on playing our best, you hear me, you cowards?"

"PUDDLEMERE!" was the response the Coach got.

"Potter!" Deverill bellowed, summoning the young man.

"What do you want, Coach?" Harry cast a fleeting look at the bench for the reserve players. "Make it quick, I don't want my seat to be taken."

"You got a real attitude problem, don't you, kid? Show some respect to your elders."

"If you stop treating your subordinates like piece of shit, I may possibly reflect my attitude."

"Cheeky bastard."

"Old weasel," Harry prompted, before questioning him seriously, "So, really, why did you call me, Coach?"

"Right, straight to the point then." Deverill bobbed his head. "You're going to play a full game, Potter."

Harry began to chuckle in such sudden way. "You're joking, aren't you, Coach?"

"Kid, do I look like the type to joke around?"

"Last time, you did trick me into believing you were impressed with my outrageous flying, when in actual truth, you were reprimanding me for it-"

"I know what I'm saying! That was a rhetorical question, you imbecile and you're not supposed to answer it." Deverill was irked. "What? You're not up to the challenge? Afraid you'll faint like the last time?"

"Do I hear the Coach taunting a player? That's new…" Raesly splashed to Harry's mind. "What about Raesly?" The Coach simply pointed his thumb to the said man. Harry was annoyed to see Raesly sitting on Harry's 'own' seat by the bench! "That pillock is stealing my seat. What is he doing?" (Hey Raesly, get your fat arse out of my seat! That's the best view to watch the game!)

"Would you stop worrying over a seat, Potter? Merlin. Focus kid!"

Harry's features converted to solemn. "Are you serious about this, Coach? I can save my energy if Raesly play first. We both know that my style of play was never defensive, it always more on the offensive. Raesly is more skilful in defensive than I am. His body practically got the right build for it."

"As much as the plan appeals to me and it worked against the other team, I have to suggest the best players we got to be on the field right now. The Magpies are much tougher than the last time, so there's no need for us to hold back. We'll be going full-scale offensive till the end of the game. They ought to know by now that their Chasers are unmatchable against our own, so they'll probably search a way to finish the game as quickly as they can, which means they all will be concentrating on seeking the Snitch for Williams. You'll just have to endure the long hours, kid. If you can't go on, then we'll substitute you with Raesly," reasoned Deverill. "Listen, Potter, if we lose this match, then it's fine… Nobody will fault you for it. For the very least, we had our fair share on winning the tournament in the past. We already brought back Puddlemere's honor and that's more than enough, so don't push yourself too hard, you understand?"

Harry made the point of turning his back to the Coach. "And, I'm telling you, Coach. We will win again."

A strong hand placed on Harry's right shoulder. "I'm just looking out for you, kid. I'm only preparing you for the inevitable. I don't have any desire to allow history repeat itself again. You have to accept losing in your life, it's the only way for us to live our life, by accepting something even if it is bitter sweet."

Harry's enticing emerald eyes looked over his shoulder, vacantly staring at the man with cold hard gaze. "I am not the person you told me of. I am myself. Get that into your thick old skull, Coach." He shrugged the hand from his shoulder, letting it brush past him.

* * *

><p>Extending his hand painfully, Harry intercepted the Magpies' pass, and swiped the Quaffle from the air. He shouted with surprise as he roughly lost his footing on the broom. Harry reproached himself as he had to be careful about pushing certain boundaries. There are things that cannot be pushed, for the consequences that can befall upon you can turn out not to be good. Bringing the Quaffle to his stomach, he embraced it firmly. Eyes glimmered, face toughened up, Harry commanded his broom to the opponent's goal post, quite intent on scoring more.<p>

The game had been going on for an hour and ten minutes, with Puddlemere United leading by 350 to 280, a seventy point difference. The Magpies' Beaters weren't withholding anything and Harry was their main target throughout the entire game. Harry himself hadn't made much of an impact, considering the Magpies' Beaters were now well-prepared and very motivated in defeating Puddlemere. Additionally, their Chasers weren't far behind the Beaters. From Harry's observation, they must have been training quite vigorously to win the tournament cup this time.

Harry's eyes widened, and with not enough time to elude the speedy bludger in front of him, he shielded his face with his right hand. As the surge of searing pain coursed him, Harry hissed, the Quaffle on his right hand going astray from the vicious assault along his Quidditch gear on his right forearm. That's the second time his right forearm's gear had been destroyed. Didn't they know how expensive Quidditch gear was these days?

With an anguished expression, Harry jiggled his hand vehemently, attempting to lessen the pain. All his efforts were to no avail, as the pain didn't diminish.

Harry ducked his head as quickly as he could to evade another Bludger from behind him. He growled at the cowardly attack and was starting to grow weary of the opposing Beaters unrelenting harassment. The jerks never knew when to quit. At the bark of his Captain's order, Harry whizzed to his teammates. His flight was a bit rocky due to his injury. He scowled at his two teammates and shot a look to not comment anything about his arm.

"Listen, is there a rule where I can't deflect a Bludger with a Quaffle?" yelled Harry, amongst the vociferous cheers from the crowds.

"No, not that I know of, mate," Wadcock responded in similar tone.

Griffiths flew a bit closer to the young Chaser. "What are you planning, Harry?"

"The Magpies' Beaters are becoming a hindrance! I have to take them out," answered Harry. "Help me get the Quaffle and leave the rest up to me. If we can take out one of the Magpies' Beaters, the game is ours to take. Their combination and teamwork are more deadly than the last time. It's our only chance. We can't delay anymore! We need to outscore the Magpies before Williams ensnares the Snitch."

Wadcock looked at Griffiths, staring into her eyes and silently conversing with her.

"Sounds like a plan!" Griffiths nodded her head. "Alright you two, follow my lead. Wilda, get behind me. Potter, you behind Wilda." Immediately, they all lined up accordingly. "Draw out the maximum speed of your brooms and keep up with me. Potter, once it's your turn, steal the Quaffle from Fulber. No mistakes!"

Without wasting any more time, they zoomed to the sole Chaser who's been holding the Quaffle the whole time. All three charged dangerously towards the Chaser, whose eyes widened at such a daunting formation. He endeavored to pass it to another of his teammates, but his body wasn't responding. It was as if it had been dominated by the pressure of the Puddlemere's Chasers spectacle. At the last minute, nearly crashing to each other, Wadcock slightly steered his broom to the left, scarcely avoiding the opponent's Chaser who had closed his eyes in fear.

This action follow suited by the rest of his two teammates, with Griffiths opting to move her broom right and Harry finally robbing the Quaffle from the man. A rare grin slipped Harry's face at Wadcock's devious plan. The crowds more or less burst to applause at such tremendous play from Puddlemere and now, it was Harry turn to shine. Not slowing his broom down, he pinpointed the location of Magpies' Beaters. Identifying them just ahead, he prepared himself for the anticipated assault.

Not giving Harry anymore chance, one of them hurled the first Bludger. In accordance to it, the other Beater launched the second Bludger.

At this, Harry's hands quickly let go of his broom and forced the broom to go straight ahead with his knees. It was very, very difficult to execute such a thing, but it was a success. Both of his hands clenched tightly onto the Quaffle, and muscles coiled in preparation. With great effort, Harry deflected the first Bludger using the Quaffle in his hands. He directed the Bludger to the second Beater and it hit the man's face. Not dropping his concentration yet, Harry resumed his defensive posture and got ready for the second Bludger.

He repelled it as well, bouncing the furious Bludger to the other Beater and it concluded with the same result, akin to his teammate. Harry couldn't stop the happy laughter that erupted from his throat as both Beaters descended from their brooms and plummeted down to the ground. Nonetheless, his moment was brief as his broom started to wobble violently and he had to pass the Quaffle to Griffiths. Both hands cleaved to his broom and Harry significantly decelerated it, visibly discharging a breath of relief from such precarious experience.

"Blimey, that's bloody wicked, mate!"

Judging from the crowds' wild thunderous cheers, they readily concurred to Wadcock's words. Most were rendered speechless at Harry's performance.

Harry's only response was, "The Quaffle, to me, quick!" Griffiths, with confounded expression, flung the Quaffle at Harry's request. After receiving it, Harry kicked his broom into top speed. Naturally, everyone thought the young player was aiming to score another set of points. Nevertheless, it was a shock when Harry tossed the Quaffle powerfully towards an individual, and not in the direction of the goal post.

The person was none other than Williams.

People were too entranced by Harry's fluid movements that they absolutely forgotten about the Snitch and it instigated to Williams taking the advantage of it. The Snitch was just about to be in the palm of his hand when out of nowhere, his broom was struck by a Quaffle, causing it to spin erratically. Williams looked at the person who was responsible for losing him the opportunity to grasp the Snitch. From afar, Harry shrugged his shoulders in ingenuous manner, accompanied with a triumphant smirk. Williams puckered his lips in dissatisfaction, unwilling to get livid at his once teammate.

The crowds, unsurprisingly, exploded to cheers in a barbaric manner.

* * *

><p>Harry frantically gasped for air, wiping some of the sweat off his face with the sleeves of his uniform. The game had been going for a total of two hours and fifteen minutes, the longest time Harry ever played Quidditch. He was starting to reach his limits and he knew it. He was also aware that his teammates' breath was mirroring his, and becoming slightly labored. Out of the players in the field, Harry was more likely the most exhausted. He thought his endurance was good, but he was proved wrong.<p>

The Magpies weren't giving up either. They were keeping up with Puddlemere's pace excellently. All of them were as determined as hell to beat Puddlemere, counting Williams as well. Williams viewed this match as a way of saying goodbye and by winning the game, he'd cut ties with Puddlemere once for all. Harry and the rest of Puddlemere's players, however, weren't giving him an easy play. They all had been watching Williams extra hard ever since his last pull on almost catching the snitch.

Still panting, Harry dashed his way forcefully to the opposing Chasers. Like a slippery eel, he slithered his way to them, sneakily stealing the Quaffle. He ignored the stunned looks from the Magpies and whooshed to the goal posts, not waiting for his teammates. Right hand clasped firmly on the Quaffle, he tossed it with every bit of strength he still had left in his body. Afterwards, Harry used the broom to support his body from falling, his head down, simply hovering in the air. The crowds gave away the answer away as he indeed scored again.

Losing is not an option for him…

He raised his head high, steeling his body from shaking violently.

He must win no matter what…

What good would it do if one lost?

Nothing, that's what… There's nothing to be gain from it…

Harry slapped his face with both of his hands, struggling to get his head in the game.

_Winning isn't everything . Losing is where one will rise up again and become much stronger than he previously was. Losing is where one will learn from his mistakes and not repeating it for another time. Losing is where one will learn to be humble. Experiencing bitterness is where one will gain everything…_

Harry snapped up at those words, blinking his eyes. Where did that come from? It wasn't the old man's voice. It was from someone else. It's almost as if it was from his own voice… Of course, it didn't make sense at all. It might have been some jumbling thoughts came floating to mind and nothing more. Harry relocated his full attention to the game and was astounded to hit upon Doukas abandoning his broom to block the Quaffle from sliding through the lower last three hoops. In turn, Griffiths caught the Quaffle and without further ado, she rushed to the other side of the goal posts.

Not having the energy to escape a Bludger, she dispatched the Quaffle to her captain accurately. The Bludger took her unerringly to the stomach and knocked her from the broom. Not wishing his two teammates' sacrifice to be in vain, Wadcock tore past all players, failing to notice even his own teammates. The pace of the game was so chaotic now, it ensued in both sides to no longer care to stick with their formations.

Harry waved his hand madly for Wadcock.

Seeing Harry, Wadcock promptly chucked the Quaffle high up in the air. Hastening to the Quaffle, Harry took his cue and precisely the right time, he smacked it with the tail of his broom as hard as he could. Regrettably for Puddlemere United, the Montrose Magpies weren't going to just stand by and watch. The Captain of the team, Fabius Watkins, lashed out an exhausted yet swift kick, directing the Quaffle to another direction as well as impeding another score for Puddlemere. Without another thought, Harry pursued the Quaffle, planning to execute one of his foolish stunts.

The same stunt in which caused him to recover for two whole days. Fortunately, what he had in mind was much safer than his last stunt.

With a roar of lion, Harry flew to the Quaffle and leapt off his broom, his right hand not letting go of the broom no matter what. Teeth gnashing furiously together and hand reaching out for the Quaffle in the midair, Harry seized it at long last. "Hah-hah!" Harry grinned, mounting back to his broom. Just on the brink of touching the ground, he rocketed up the sky. The cheers from the crowds was so deafening that, to Harry, it was the only thing he could heard. Not the sound of his Quidditch robes rippling violently, the shouts of other players, his incessant ragged breaths, just the cheers. It was breathtaking.

They were captivated by how Harry would go lengths in ensuring the team's victory. Jumping off the broom just to get the Quaffle and clambering back the broom were no small feat. Most of the crowd were more or less gasping, hands on mouths, rising up from their seats and swearing Merlin's name. There was not a single player whom was brave or was fool enough to carry out such stunt. But it was these sounds that motivated Harry more. He evaded another Bludger, closing in the goal posts. He hoisted the Quaffle above his head, basking the attention of the crowds.

However, his celebration was short-lived as soon as a bang split up in the air from the referee's wand, concluding the game. Harry's eyes grew large in a complete shock as he gradually slowed down his broom. The crowds and all of the players, including him, were too affixed by his performance that they had completely missed Williams chasing after the Snitch. His eyes swirled to the magical screen in full of disbelief. His breath began to shallow and he suddenly felt suffocating, the Quaffle on his right hand was unconsciously let go.

Harry did not know if it is from exhaustion, or that it's from the shock. All he knows is that he had a very difficult time to breathe.

His wide eyes watched as the Magpies celebrated their victory. They were so close into winning the game, but the conclusion wasn't what Harry expected it would be. Out of the blue, a furious Bludger strike his back. Eyes popping out of their sockets, Harry choked, coughing violently. He didn't have to wait for so long before another one smashed his left shoulder. He didn't have time to react to the intense pain before another Bludger smacked his right cheek, knocking him off his broom. He was sure the bruise on his face would be swollen.

Body hitting the ground with a thud, Harry cringed when his right shoulder cracked from falling at such a high height. The world was dazedly spinning around him, and his expression was one of anguish. Even as his sight grew shadowy, he just barely heard the outraged shouts from Puddlemere's fans as his eyes stared straight to the sky. Abruptly and willingly, he succumbed to the darkness.

* * *

><p>"I am going to murder those two Beaters one way or another…and I'll do it slowly and painfully." The statement was from none other than Daphne. Every occupant in close proximity to her flinched and some nearly wet themselves at such cold voice. "Father, I want them to be miserable for the rest of their pathetic life. I want regret to be their only companion from this point on, do you understand me?"<p>

"Now, now, Daphne love, that's a bit exaggerating, don't you think?"

Peter Gandalf, Puddlemere's scout and financial manager, mouthed 'a bit?' in trepidation to Philbert Deverill.

The Coach of Puddlemere swallowed the lump of his throat. "Remind me not to get on her bad side…"

"What are you saying, William? That's an act of compassion compared to what I had in mind…" Elizabeth was outraged, and was spouting more of her venomous threats, resulting in Puddlemere's employee's edging away from the woman, horrified of her. "How dare they strike Harry after the game ended! It's such a cowardly attack! Oh, I'm so mad right now! Throttling someone feels like an excellent idea for me to appease my anger…"

Once more, her declaration caused another wave of Puddlemere's employees stepping further away.

"Scratch that, remind me not to get on either of their bad sides, mother and daughter, especially if it concerns the kid. I'll have to treat the kid slightly better from now on, which includes the rest of us as well. Wait, notify this to everyone this instant, go." Gandalf nodded his head rapidly, whimpering slightly and swiftly attending to it.

Tittering uneasily, William Greengrass adjusted the collar of his attire, visibly loosening it up. "Please, both of you, calm down. It will do no good to anyone if you smolder yourselves in rage." The head family of Greengrass cowered under the glare of his wife.

Deverill cleared his throat and immediately regretted it as all attention was on him. "Excuse me, Lady Greengrass, but I believe Potter is the main concern here. If any of you mind, I can tell you his condition at this time. The healers have already checked him and healed those injuries of his."

"How is he?" pestered Callista, her hypnotizing azure eyes shining worriedly.

"Is his injury that bad?" Sheila's posture exactly matched her best friend, reciprocating the concern.

"Will Harry be alright?" Indisputably followed by Regine, her scarlet slight wavy hair was fastened to a loose ponytail.

All three girls abandoned their families without a second thought and tagged along Daphne's family in favor of visiting Harry, whom at the present, resided in Puddlemere's Headquarters infirmary section. They were too concerned for their male friend that they had completely neglected the other famous Quidditch players.

"Yes, yes, and yes. The ki-" Deverill bit his tongue and corrected himself at once. "Potter is fine, he's resting at the moment."

"I say we should hunt those two adults like I first proposed and inflict them with so much pain that they'll feel sorry for hurting Potter, much less touching him. What they did is beyond forgiving," Daphne hissed to her friends. Nobody was surprised when the other three girls nodded their heads determinedly, assenting to their gorgeous blond friend's idea.

"Yeah, you got it, Daph!" Sheila pumped her fist in the air.

"Can we at least get their autographs first before we pummel them to their death?" Regine asked to no one in particular.

Callista clapped her hands together, eyes dancing gaily. "An excellent idea, Regine! It's not as if we got another rare chance like this one. That is after we cripple them, no one will have the opportunity to request for their autographs any longer…"

Sheila's fist, which was still in the air, lowered considerably. "You two do have a point…This is one of those lifetime opportunity, right?"

Daphne slapped her forehead with her right hand and then, ran it down her face. She shook her head in incredulity at her friends' behavior. "What's important here? Is it Potter, or some worthless parchment with a fancy signature in it?" Three of them shot sheepish looks in her direction.

"May I get your attention for the second time, if you all please?" Deverill kneaded his temples incessantly. He's getting too old for this. "There is a bit of bad news I have to inform you all and this concerns Potter." He raised his finger when the girls opened their mouths. "Young ladies, things will go faster if no one interrupts me and I appreciate it if you all let me continue." The girls had the decency to be embarrassed, even Daphne, who flushed slightly. "Physically, he is fine. The healers had done their jobs quite well and patched him up back. Though, he does still require some rest to recover fully. But, mentally…"

"What is it, Philbert? Is there a repercussion some sort to his brain?"

"No, no, none of those, Lord Greengrass." Deverill exhaled noisily.

Ultimately, it took minutes to explain it to them all. Each had varied expressions by the end of it.

* * *

><p><strong>31 July 1993.<strong>

People have, for all time, wondered about the lights in the sky. In Ancient times, people believed they could distinguish shapes among the stars. They identified both animals and people, and each had its own story to share the world. Tonight though, it was not the case, as a young man simply watched them glitter across the sky. He was marveling his life or better yet, his mistakes in his last game of Quidditch.

Sighing, Harry leaned forward, folded arms rested on the railings of the balcony. The cold breeze of the wind chilled his soft skin. He didn't think it would be this bad. He thought the Coach was exaggerating when he said it. He thought it was silly on how a person could be so down after losing a competition of some sort. But now, Harry knew what it meant to _really _lose to someone, or specifically to a professional Quidditch team. That experience verified he's still naïve to things, too childish on things. And now look where it leads him? He was moping around like some kid throwing tantrums over something he desperately wanted, but didn't get.

His eyes softened visibly. Now, he understood what the Coach meant. In all his life, he was always the victor, never the loser. Even in Hogwarts, he was the best amongst all, and bested every single of his classmates including Callista. He was too drunk on winning, and the thought of losing had never struck him. Losing to Merlin never counted, as Harry knew whatever he did or how many tricks he conjured, it would never work against the old man, even if he had to cheat his way through. He chuckled silently to himself.

It was just few days ago that he had lectured Raesly on losing and now, it appeared his own words had floated to the forefront of his mind. Fortunately, the Coach was considerate enough to forbid any Puddlemere players and employees to visit Harry in such state, stating his physical injuries were serious, even though his injuries were not as serious as the Coach claimed them to be. Who knew how his teammates would react to his attitude over the defeat, especially Raesly. No doubt the haughty man would be utilizing Harry's own words back at him, albeit smugly and sardonically.

Harry smiled at the twinkling stars. He should be feeling more down than this, nevertheless he was not. He couldn't quite explain it, but it felt like his chest had been lightened by something. He plopped his chin on one hand, still gazing the sky with ambivalent feelings. Maybe the Coach was right, Harry Potter needed to learn to lose once in a while.

"Harry…" A soft voice splintered his thoughts.

Harry twisted his head around and stumbled upon his four best friends approaching him hesitantly.

Oh, that's right, today was his birthday and he _rudely_ excused himself from his party, his very own party that was set up by the Greengrasses. Now guilt stewed inside Harry as they had put in so much effort to celebrate his birthday, yet he declined it in favor of brooding to himself. What ungrateful jerk he is. Heat crept up his cheeks. After he arrived in the Greengrass manor, he simply marched up to the second floor of the mansion and went to search for a balcony that had the best view. Cheeks heated more. He wasn't even aware of the fact that he had brusquely brushed past so many people greeting him earlier on. Now, Harry felt nothing more than the urge to shut himself in a place where people can't find him and just stay there. He couldn't possibly face the girls and their families after that. It was very humiliating for him!

"Harry…"

"U-uh, H-hey girls, do you need something?"

"We're worried about you. Are you okay?" Regine shortened her distance from him, approaching his left side.

Harry averted his eyes from her. "Y-yeah… I'm fine…"

"Really? Because truthfully I'm a little doubtful, Harry." Callista appeared on his right side. "Coach Deverill told us…"

"Oh?" Harry murmured softly.

"A-and, losing is not that bad! We know you've never lost to anyone before… A-and u-um…" Sheila trailed off her words meekly, mentally groaning.

"Jonnet, you shouldn't let him remember his defeat!" Daphne whispered harshly, in a surprisingly hushed tone.

"I know that, snake! I'm not stupid! I'm only trying to cheer him up!" Sheila remarked in a much more surprising hushed tone.

"Well, congratulations, you've done an excellent job!" Daphne said derisively. "And, are you certain you're not an idiot?"

"Take that back!" Sheila screamed this time, eyes blazing in fury. "Or, I'll make you regret it!"

"Oh?" Daphne arched an eyebrow casually before she sneered, "I'm so scare right now that I'm trembling in fear."

At the present, both of them looked like two predators fighting over the same prey.

"You two!" Callista chastised angrily. "We're not here to see you two fighting with each other, we're here to comfort Harry!"

"She started it!" Sheila accused her blond friend.

"I beg your pardon, Jonnet, but as I recall, it was you who started it with your lame words of comfort," Daphne countered heatedly.

"Enough," Callista spoke firmly, eyes glowering. Her posture was so unlike her at all. "Silence, both of you."

"Don't tell me what to do, Callista!" They seemingly finished their sentences in chorus.

Startled, Callista had the grace to step a few feet away, fluttering her eyes in mild shock.

"Um, you two…?" Regine voiced out weakly.

"Stay out of this, Regine!" again, they said it concurrently.

"Wow…" Harry's amuse voice butted in. "You two are speaking simultaneously now, are you? I thought only people who were born twins could do that."

"No, we are not!" Both girls snapped their heads round to face one another. "You're the one who's copying me!" The glares on their pretty faces increased further. "Stop copying everything I'm saying! I absolutely mean it! Stop it! Do you want to get hex?"

Harry, along with Regine and Callista, traded looks and they had to chuckle heartily at the sight of them.

"Okay, okay, that's enough, you two." Still giggling, Regine stepped in the middle of them, placating them all the while.

A hand touched his elbow and he looked down. "Are you sure you're alright, Harry?" Callista asked with obvious concern in her eyes.

Harry rubbed the scruff of his neck. "Yeah, I'm fine, really, I am." The girls looked skeptical at his answer. In response, Harry rolled his eyes. "Honestly, girls, I am." He swiveled his eyes back to the stars and a small smile coiled at the corner of his lips. "It's just… I needed some time to myself… You know… to cope with this new feeling… It's strange… yet it's not… Does that make sense?"

"It does, Harry…" Callista smiled in understanding. "It certainly does…"

Regine was rubbing his back soothingly and Daphne just smiled sincerely at him, knowing words weren't needed between them.

"Apparently, it's not enough to sulk for the whole day."

Of course, Sheila had to ruin the moment by joking around without putting much of thought.

"Sheila!" Sheila recoiled under the glares of her friends.

"Sorry…" she squeaked out. "It slipped out..."

"Girls, seriously, I'm fine."

"Really, Harry?" Regine edged closer to him.

Harry's smile widened at the persistent questions, not irritated by it. "Yes, Regine, I am."

Daphne puckered her lips, crossing her arms. "And here I thought of something to enlighten Potter. Looks like it's just something that serves to keep me amused."

"That's new… first… for Daphne anyway…" a stunned Callista commented.

"Hmm, hmm." Regine nodded her head in agreement. "Since when did you ever think of cheering up someone, Daph?"

A smirk worked its way onto her lips. "Oh, this one will definitely bring out the enjoyment to everyone. I guarantee it."

"Let's hear it then, I'm curious myself," said Harry. "There's nothing that says we can't do it now, can we?"

"If you insist." Daphne's smirk almost curved to a grin. "I just recently learned a game called Piñata. It's a game in which a doll-like container bearing sweets or small gifts and hung it from the ceiling or a tree. The entertainment part is where people hit it, but they have to be blindfolded."

"That is interesting, I've never heard of it," said Regine.

"Neither have I!" Sheila chirped. "Are we sure the snake isn't making that one up?"

"I have. It's a Muggle game, right Callista?"

Callista smiled gently. "Yes, it is. I'm surprised Daphne knows of it."

"Wait, I'm not finished yet." This time, a large grin did swipe across her lips. "Since we don't have any dolls around, I recommend we use someone." Out of nowhere, a rope materialized on her hands and Daphne, in a blur, tied it around Sheila, binding her wholly. "If no one volunteers, we'll just have to make use of Jonnet. First one to shatter her brain into pieces will be the winner. We might cure her idiocy along the way. I heard relentless beatings are just one of various methods in healing something."

"What! There is no such thing! Who told you beating someone would cure something?"

"From a friend, her name is Daphne Greengrass. Nice lady, I must say."

"More like reincarnation of evil!"

Daphne extracted her handkerchief out of her dress and wrapped it around Sheila's mouth. "Oh, stuff it, Jonnet. Remember, this is for Potter so you have to be the sacrificial lamb. I'm sure no one will miss you. Perhaps your parents will..." Daphne shrugged her shoulders indifferently. "Most likely, they'll get over it quickly though." The muffle sound stemmed from Sheila was undoubtedly furious.

"Daphne, enough kidding around and untie Sheila." Callista tried to be stern and curb her giggles, but failed miserably.

Daphne was looking Callista with genuine confused expression. "Who said I was joking?"

Laughing happily, Regine advanced over to Sheila and attempted to release her from the clutches of Daphne's strong ropes. It was astonishingly well-tied, coming from Daphne. Callista had to provide her friend with her support and finally, they both liberated Sheila from it. Sheila crossly wrenched the handkerchief from her mouth and growled.

"That's it! You're going down, Daph!" She lunged for Daphne, but was restrained by her other two female friends.

Regine gripped her right arm. "Sheila, stop!"

"Don't Sheila!" Callista confined her other arm.

Additionally, both girls were chortling all the while.

"Let me go, you two! I'll kill her! I'll rip her apart! Strangle her to death! Shave her head till it is nice and shiny! And then she'll be bald for the rest of her life!"

Daphne appeared to be unconcerned as she inspected over her well-manicure nails. "It's for Potter, Jonnet. Deal with it. And you're just jealous of my lustrous straight hair." She emphasized her point by flipping her hair graciously over her shoulder to which it vexed Sheila further.

Harry watched the scene with a smile. Callista and Regine were struggling to soothe Sheila down, however with Daphne still taunting Sheila, the Gryffindor girl's fury was obviously not extinguishing anytime soon. "Girls, let's go down. I don't want to celebrate my birthday alone." They stopped at what they are doing and merely looked at him. At the wide smile on his lips, the bright beautiful emerald eyes of his and the moonlight shone on his face, they couldn't resist the urge to smile back at him with faint blushes on their respective cheeks.

Perceiving their male friend like this made them realize all over again on how truly handsome Harry was. "Come on then… I really don't want to spend my birthday alone…" With that, the girls dragged him with them, conversing, laughing, bantering good-humoredly and enjoyed Harry's company. The smile on Harry's lips never faltering, even for one fleeting second…


	20. Chapter 19, Season 3

**Chapter 19.**

**3 August 1993.**

Emerald eyes roved over the newspaper, the Daily Prophet, as it detailed Ballycastle Bats victory against Montrose Magpies. Grunting in dissatisfaction, Harry flung the newspaper onto the table in front of him. He stretched out his hand for his cup of tea and sipped it. He was having ambivalent feelings over the news. For one thing, he was satisfied to know the Magpies scarcely got a chance to win. On the other hand, he was discontented by the fact the Bats had once more regained their past title as champions.

"Not quite a sight, eh, Harry?" Tom, the landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, struck a conversation with the young man.

Hoisting his neck up, his eyes hit upon the bartender, Tom, whom was scrubbing the long table near Harry's. Presently, Harry was in the Leaky Cauldron. It was still early in the morning, and he was enjoying his breakfast meal. There were a few people babbling, laughing or minding their own business, and they failed to notice Harry was there amongst them. He was dressed in his signature deep brown coat that reached to his knees and his Ascot hat, along with his non-magical attire.

"Most of us were still quite mad on what the Magpies' beaters did to ya. Why, we ought'a hunt for their blood. We would if it weren't for you telling us not to."

Harry smiled slightly at the wizened, toothless man. "As much as I crave retribution, it's not worth it. Besides, it says here, their skills are not nearly as close to Quigley's, far from it actually. That made my day a little brighter, and at the same it did not. I don't suppose it makes any sense, does it, Tom?"

"No, it makes perfect sense. You wish one rival team to lose badly, yet you don't wish another rival team to be the winner, am I correct?"

"Precisely," Harry muttered dryly, flipping the newspaper over to read it again. "Both teams could've ended in a draw, but the match has to be ended in both sides humiliating one another and by doing so, they make a fool out of themselves. That could've made my day much brighter."

Tom grinned. "Only you would have such imagination, little Harry."

Taking a vicious bite out of his breakfast meal, a deep growl rumbled from Harry's throat. Didn't the people in Diagon Alley ever get the message that he didn't fancy to be called little? For heaven's sake, he's taller compared to how he was back then! A sigh escaped from Harry's mouth. Some things would never change and sadly, one of it is how people in Diagon Alley view him. Curse his shorter height when he was young! Just then, an individual set foot in the Leaky Cauldron, and immediately seized Harry's attention.

"Captain!" Harry called out instinctively, springing up from the chair he sat on.

"Potter?" The person was flabbergasted to stumble upon the teen here of all places in the world. He, then, smiled benignly. "I don't recall being your captain since last year, Potter. A raven notified me you're the captain now, so am I to assume you want me calling you 'captain' from now on too?"

Cheeks stained pink, Harry mumbled, "It's a habit, Barkain… It's hard to tone it down once you get used to it."

Jeffery Barkain was previously the captain of Ravenclaw Quidditch team. He had graduated from Hogwarts at the end of Harry's fourth year. He was an extremely handsome young man with childlike striking features, almond bright eyes and messy brown hair. He was much taller than Harry, lanky with broad shoulders. If Harry's memory served him perfectly, Jeffery was one of the popular guys in Hogwarts and the sole male who behaved differently around Harry than the rest. What Harry meant by differently was Jeffery treating him harshly in training and pushing him to the limits.

Outside of training though, Jeffery was normally seen chatting with Harry without hatred or petty envy in his eyes. Secretly, Harry had always looked up to Barkain. Nonetheless, he would never acknowledge it publicly and would deny it vehemently if anyone divulged it to him. In Hogwarts, aside from Professor Flitwick, Jeffery was one of the few guys Harry deeply respected. During Harry's first three years in Hogwarts, Barkain took Harry under his wing and if Harry was to be completely honest with himself, most of his Quidditch skills along with his talents derived from his former captain.

Jeffery laughed blithely. "I suppose you do have a point, Potter. Mind me joining you?"

Harry beckoned to another chair. The former captain took it, all the while requesting a Butterbeer from Tom. (You kids ease yourselves up and don't ya worry, your order will be comin' right up. Me wife will bring it out for ya, Mr. Barkain.) Shouts then ensued from behind the bar after the bartender withdrew himself to the back, prompting Harry to shake his head with a sincere smile on his face. He faithfully believed things would never change around here, which admittedly suited him just fine.

"So, I heard you've been very busy, Potter, joining Puddlemere United and all. Still in Hogwarts, and you've become a professional Quidditch player. That's a feat not many people could hope to top, or accomplish," affirmed Jeffery kindheartedly. "With your talents and outrageous flying skill on brooms, I can't say I'm astounded they recruited you while you were still in Hogwarts."

"Try to fool me all you want but you can't." Harry tossed him an amused look. "You were shocked and envious of my initial acceptance into Puddlemere, weren't you?" Face dramatically falling, Jeffery incoherently whispered something about 'arrogant lucky bastard'. "What about you, Barkain? What are you doing these days?"

"Working for Gringotts, just a lowly curse breaker with enough payment for necessities."

"Really?" Harry's eyebrows furrowed together. "My first thought is you auditioning for a spot in one of the professional Quidditch teams."

Jeffery scratched the back of his head, embarrassment engraved in his features. "Yeah…well… it didn't go as planned…"

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say, I didn't get a spot…"

Harry was stumped. "How the hell did that happen? You're a talented seeker. Even my brother had a difficult time with you and people say he's the most talented as well as the best seeker anyone has ever seen. You beat him during your last year in Hogwarts."

"Talk something else, Potter." Jeffery smiled gratefully in Tom's direction for fetching the Butterbeer to him.

"Okay…" Harry discerned his former captain chugging his drink away. "How did you wind up in Gringotts then? And as a lowly curse-breaker? Your results in NEWTs weren't that bad, it's actually the other way around. There are jobs with higher salary out there."

Jeffery shrugged his shoulders. "We all have to make a living, Potter. What choice do I have? Apply for a job in the ministry? We both know that's not going to happen. You know how corrupted our government is. I just can't stand to work under those bigoted people even if I am a Pureblood," he snorted derisively.

"Still, there are a lot of choices out there…"

"Allow me to ask you this then, what are you going to do after Hogwarts?"

"I-I don't know…" Harry scowled gallingly. "It's still too early for me to decide. I've got two more years ahead of me."

"See? It ain't that easy."

Harry blew out a frustrated sigh. "Fine, fine, it's not."

"I just thought it'd be best for me to work for Gringotts, earning experience and all," Jeffery carried on as if nothing had interrupted him. "It's only temporary."

"Yeah, right, temporary…" Harry was not utterly convinced. "And, how long have you been with Gringotts? If I have to guess, it must have been a year… No, it's definitely a year you've been with them. Have you ever got promoted?"

Jeffery tousled his hair exasperatingly. "Fine, you make your point, you cheeky bastard. Sometimes you can be a right arse, you know that, Potter?"

"So, I've been told…" Harry mused, pushing away his now empty plate. "Tell me about your trials and no changing topics this time, Barkain."

Jeffery took one last swig of his Butterbeer. "You do know how to force something out of people, don't you, Potter?"

"I picked it up from friends," as he said this, images of the girls drifted to his mind.

"It's not something I'm keen to talk about," said Barkain evasively.

"What team did you join?" insisted Harry.

"Bats. Ballycastle Bats."

Harry whistled. "That's some ambition, providing how they won British and Irish tournament twenty-two times consecutively. Though, we managed to break their winning streak before they reclaimed it again this year," said Harry irritably.

"I can see how you're annoyed, Potter." Barkain chuckled at his wistful expression. "It really was a shame the Puddlemere was defeated by the Magpies. People had a wager going on, that Puddlemere was heading for victory again." He had a longing look on his face. "Wish I could play in front of hundreds of people. Just imagine the thunderous cheers from the crowds when I catch the snitch."

"Your dream? To become a professional player I mean?" Harry inquired, observing Barkain.

"It's more than just a dream, Potter… It's- It's… my life's goal… Some scouts from other teams offered, but I declined in favor of joining the Bats instead. It didn't work out due to the complications of many people signing up and I didn't get an opportunity to present my skills to them. By the time I attempted to join other teams, their offers had expired. You can safely say that I'm not as lucky as other people are, huh?" Barkain smiled sympathetically. "In a way, I envy you, Potter. You were given a chance to be a professional player at such young age. I wonder sometimes if life is unfair."

"I had help from above - someone with great influence. If not, I won't be where I am now." Harry justified smoothly.

"So we've heard. The owner of Puddlemere recommended you." Harry's head shot up so fast he gave himself whiplash. "I, along with many other people, heard how Lord Greengrass was the one responsible for your initiation to Puddlemere, but most of the work came from you, didn't it? You proved yourself in the official games. If it wasn't for you working so hard to rise up the ranks and get your skills recognized, you wouldn't be here now, would you?" Heavy sigh can be perceived. "Man, I do really envy you. I wish could say otherwise, but it's hard not to be jealous of you, Potter."

Harry chose not to retort to the slight jibe and settled with drinking his tea quietly. Situating the cup down upon the table, he announced after few minutes of tension, "What if you were given another chance, Barkain? Would you grab it?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me…" Harry stood up, regulating his coat and hat appropriately. He left a couple of galleons on the table, deliberately paying it more. "Come with me. I'd like to introduce you to someone…"

* * *

><p>"You strut to this building as if you own the place, storm into my office, overlooking the meeting taking place in this room and now, you're introducing me to a stranger! Blimey, kid! Learn some manners, will you?!" Philbert Deverill raved, his voice booming. An angry vein popped on his forehead. "Can't you see we're in the middle of something here?!"<p>

"Of course, I can see that. I'm not blind." Harry eyed the several adults in the room, and afterwards disregarded their presence for the second time. Peter Gandalf was there as well, looking at them in mixture of curiosity and mirth. "But, this is important, Coach. If it wasn't, then I wouldn't have barged in without alerting you."

The man massaged his temples, desperately minimizing the stress clobbering his head. "Even if it wasn't important, kid, you'll still barge in…" Pondering it for a few seconds, Harry shrugged, readily consenting to the man's words.

"This had better be good, kid!" Deverill, in the end, snapped. "Or else, you and this bloke will be cleaning every inch of this building, without magic!"

Barkain's back straightened in attention at this. Unquestionably, he now considered the man to be as frightening as hell.

"We still haven't solved our seeker problem, right?" The Puddlemere's coach bobbed his head in confirmation. "Well, this guy could be the key to our solution."

Deverill leveled his fierce gaze on Barkain, criticizing him from head to toe. "Are you a seeker, son?"

"I-I'm g-good in other p-p-positions too-"

"Are you or are you not a seeker, Mr. Barkain?" Deverill pressed adamantly.

"Yes, I am." Barkain coerced himself not to stammer.

"Very well, we'll see if you're the right man for the task. Peter Gandalf here-" Deverill nodded to the said man. "-will escort you and help you prepare for the trial. Wait for us by the field and we'll judge your performance. If we deem you are worthy, then we'll offer you a membership to our club."

"T-Thank you, sir-"

Deverill lifted a finger, interjecting the young man. "Hold it right there, Mr. Barkain. I didn't say we are going to make things easy for you, so hold your gratitude until after the result of your trial. You are fortunate that we even take you into consideration considering it's not our scout that is recommending you but one of our own players which hasn't heard of. Furthermore, just because you're joining us, doesn't mean we're permitting you to play in the official matches. There are procedures to follow. Gandalf, if you can, show the young fella to the locker room and suit him up."

"Why, of course! It'd be my pleasure!" Gandalf bounced from his seat. "Right this way, Mr. Barkain. You must be skillful to be recommended by Mr. Potter and if I may comment for both of us, _that_ doesn't happen a lot. It's actually astounding for him to recommend anyone, I tell you. My, I rarely heard him ever compliment anyone…" The voice of Gandalf prattling excitedly to the young man could be heard.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing, kid?"

"I am, Coach," Harry asserted confidently. "He's my previous captain and has a lot of potential to become a professional seeker. It's a waste for him not to exploit his talents. Trust me, if he's given the right training, like I was, he will become one of the best seekers around. Just you wait, Coach."

"I hope you're right, kid. It's hard to come by good seekers these days. For you to have found one when we needed them most… it was just plain lucky."

"It might have been, or it might simply a coincidence for us to meet each other today. Luck had nothing to do with it."

"You don't believe in luck, kid?"

"I don't have to believe in anything. In the end, it's our effort that counts, not luck or something close to it. If we do rely on luck, we lose faith on our own abilities. You taught me that," Harry said, smirking. "See you next year, Coach. I'll be sure to preserve my body so it's in top condition by the time I get back."

With that being said, Harry strode his way out of the room, leaving behind a smirking Deverill and several very impressed people behind.

* * *

><p>"Nervous?"<p>

Thoughts shattered, Jeffery's head budged to the person beside him. "Not really. There ain't many people, since apparently, the players are allowed to take a break for four months after the tournament…" said Jeffery, with calmness splashed all over his features. "And, I didn't hear you coming, Potter."

"Yeah, well, I had tendency to slink up to people," Harry answered in carefree, his hands jammed into his black trouser's pockets.

Both of them were by the training field, with wind breezing them as they sat on one of the benches. Surveying around the field, Harry recollected his first time here and smiled ironically. He had done most of his extensive Quidditch training here, before transferred to another field with the main players.

"A curse may well be on your way if you keep on doing that to other people." Staring at him for a while, Jeffery swiveled his eyes back to the front. "I'm starting to wonder if this is a really good idea. Strictly speaking, I am still working for Gringotts and I supposed to be reporting myself at work by now…" He ran his hand nervously through his messy brown hair. "What if it turns out terribly? I hope my superior will excuse me for missing work just this once."

"Look, if you're so concerned with your work, I'll go talk with the goblins about it. I should be somewhere else after this, but I have a lot of free time to myself so I'll stop by Gringotts first. I'm sure they'll understand this um…predicament…" spoke Harry. "Who knows, with me speaking to them, you may have a promotion the next time you go back to being a curse breaker. Seriously though, a lowly curse breaker? You could achieve more than that."

Jeffery looked skeptical and unsure at Harry's words. "Potter, goblins are nasty and greedy. They don't pardon you just for silly reasons, like pursuing silly dreams and all that. And, did I mention they're very strict? They don't care if you're going there on my behalf. If you're not written under employees or customers, they won't give a damn about you. Hell, they might even feed you to one of their security dragons for being involved in such things."

"Trust me, I have a pretty good relationship with the goblins and we go way back. Besides, you're being biased to them. If you get to know them, they're quite mischievous friendly little buggers. Just expect a letter by the end of the day and their response will sweep you off your feet," verbalized Harry with a touch of grin. "But, enough about that. Whoever said pursuing dreams are silly? For me, it is one of the most important things you must do in life. Without them, life will not be so stimulating. A dream is but a dream… But, everything began from a mere dream. Where there is life, there will always be a dream."

A smile was threatening to split Jeffery's face. "Did you get that from experiencing what it feels like to be a professional player?"

"Nope, I learned it from an old man I'm very fond of, even if I loathed to admit it willingly." Wide smile warmed Harry's face. "Guess, I should be going." Harry stood up, brushing the soot of his coat. "I wish you luck in life, Barkain. We'll meet each other sometime soon. I do have a feeling though that we'll meet each other as teammates next year. See you around then."

With a ghost of smile sported his lips, bright almond eyes loitered on Harry's retreating silhouette for a long while. "Damn him for saying that with such a cool expression. How can people say no to such expression? …Thanks, Harry…"

* * *

><p>Holding his hat in place as the wind threatened to procure his coat, Harry stood in front of the large ancient gates. His coat swayed violently.<p>

Emerald eyes were affixed on the huge ancient mansion that rested alone atop the hill. To him, it was so big, it kinda looked like what the old noble families in King Arthur's age used to live in. In Harry's opinion, the mansion was relatively in resemblance to what a castle looked like, its structure, its feature, the building and even its age. Nevertheless, so as not to arouse too much suspicion from the locals, Merlin might have changed the appearance. Thus, the conclusion of the construction was like a combination of a castle and an old English mansion.

"Harry, is that you?"

Twisting his head around, a tiny smile tugged his lips.

"Mrs. Wayward! I see you're taking a walk with your dog again?" Subsequent to this, his gaze settled on the energetically barking creature, its tail wagging in joy.

The thirty year old woman laughed, waving her hand in flippant manner. "Yes, yes, and I happen to like passing this hill with the wind blowing. It's very refreshing. And, I see you're visiting Mr. Carter again. How is he?" Mrs. Wayward said, with uncertain expression on her face. She wandered her eyes over the big frightening-like mansion and shuddered a little at the appearance.

"Oh, the old man?" said Harry distractedly, stooping down to chafe the dog's fluffy fur. "He's still the same as always." Noticing her expression, he emerged from his kneeling position. "Don't worry about it, Mrs. Wayward. It's just the outside appearance of the mansion that looks so terrible. The inside is actually luxurious, well, with dust and spider webs all over the place. Whatever horrible rumors have been concocted regarding the old man and his castle-like mansion are not true. I do acknowledge how creepy this place is, but that's just how it is. Other than that, it's pretty much normal."

"A-Are you sure, Harry?"

"I've been visiting him for years now," Harry assuaged her. "Besides, if it were true, don't you think your dog would've spotted it? I was told dogs have a canine sense and can detect dangers or any weirdness near them," Harry pointed out sensibly, patting the dog's head. It looked like to be enjoying the attention. "So, I assure you, no one from your neighborhood will be abducted and taken into the mansion, just to be transformed into a new version of Frankenstein."

"I-I suppose, you're right." Mrs. Wayward forced out a weak giggle.

"Do tell the rest of the neighborhood to not remark anything horrible about the old man again. He just doesn't have any interest in renovating his home into more of a modern style. He'd rather keep it the old fashioned way and what with him being alone in such large mansion, it's no surprise why he doesn't care such frivolous stuff. Just imagine living by yourself in big place, what with your age catching up to you."

"I guess we were all paranoid, since this mansion was built even before the neighborhood around these parts came along."

"It's okay, I would've felt the same way. This place has been handed down generation after generation in his family, that's all." Harry smiled brilliantly, inducing red tints on the woman's cheeks. Regardless she's already married, she could not contradict with herself on how truly appealing the teen is.

"Well, do send our apologies to Mr. Carter, that is if he ever heard one of our ludicrous rumors. Should I send him some muffins or something, Harry?"

"No!" Harry speedily recomposed himself. "It's just he's old now, therefore I don't think it will be an excellent idea for him to come down the hill and open the gates for you. It's not wired to electronics so it cannot open and close automatically. It has to be done manually. I think leaving him alone peacefully would be the best. I don't want to deteriorate his health further."

A slight frown marred the woman's face. "Oh dear, if what you say is true, then it is best for him to rest as much as he can. But, how you will get in, Harry?"

"Oh, I have the key to open the gate so no worries, and there is another way for me to enter his home." Harry smiled credibly, which led to another set of blushes on the woman's cheeks. "Now, if you excuse me, Mrs. Wayward, the old man is probably waiting for me."

"Y-Yes, well, have a good day, Harry. I'd best be off as well." The blush on her face deepened further. "A-and um… I-if you wish, Harry. You can stop by my house and maybe, have some cookies or snacks. Sometimes I make too much for my children."

_Is…Is she trying to seduce me by inviting me to her place? Isn't she married?_

Despite the internal conflicts, the smile still attached on his lips. "Thank you for the offer, I'll remember it the next time I visit the old man."

The woman deflated. "O-Oh, very well… Come along, Mr. Snuggles." The dog whined, but dutifully obeyed its owner.

Only after the middle-aged woman and her pet were out of view, did the smile on his face dissolve. Harry released a heavy sigh. The local people below the hill were constantly leery and apprehensive of the creepy mansion that stood alone by the hill. It was generally due to how long it had been there and how daunting it's appearance was. Though, Harry was confident half of it stemmed from the place ousting such an eerie aura, that even non-magical people were conscious of it and attracted to it.

* * *

><p>The tall doors behind him closed with a loud clang, and Harry grumbled at it.<p>

Switching his awareness to the front, Harry casually greeted the regal looking elemental, "Hey, Skip." The response he received was a strange thrilling sound. "Good to see you too. Have you been taking care of my car?" A sound from the elemental reverberated throughout the hallway they're walking on.

"What do you mean it's not mine? It is mine, I found the car." The elemental ostensibly disputed at this. "Just because the old man converted it to a more of stylish expensive car, doesn't mean it's his! There's a saying you know, 'finders keepers', and I found it, not the old man, so it's mine! Stop taking his side and start taking mine!"

The elemental emitted more noises.

"Why you… If you were more solid, I would dissect you into pieces, you stupid ethereal looking being…" There were more thrilling noises coming from Skip. "Me, jealous of you?" Harry spat incredulously, frustration mounting. "I am not jealous of you, Skip! Just because you can't be harmed physically and magically, doesn't mean anything! Fine, I confess your magical prowess is on a whole different level and that, you're a very powerful being, but that's it!" The elemental looked so conceited of itself. "Oh, shut it. I'm conceding to the reality of how powerful you are, not awe of you."

The elemental disagreed with Harry.

"That was a long time ago! I met you for the first time ever and I was what? Seven? Eight? I'd never seen or heard your kind before so of course I'd be in awe of you, anyone would be!" If the holy orb could grin, it would definitely be grinning right about now. "No, it still counts as nothing, Skip! You know what? Forget it. I don't want to squabble with you over trivial matters, just lead me to the old man. Where is he anyway?"

Thrilling sounds echoed.

"The basement? Again?" Skip explained it in its own elemental style. "Did you say he's working on something? Must be researching on the Basilisk…" The elemental clarified it more clearly. "He finished it a month ago? That's pretty quick… Why didn't he inform me of its progress?"

The reply from the elemental caused a twitch of irritation on Harry's eyes.

"Skip, what do you mean I'm not worthy enough?" The words were laced with venom, and another sound can be distinguished from the elemental. "Oh… 'Exactly what you mean', did you say?" Harry started calmly. Before anyone knew it, his hot temper had boiled to its highest point. "That's it! Come here, you daft creature! I'm going to enjoy my time dismembering you slowly! It's unheard of, but I'll be the first person to ever succeed in slicing up an elemental!"

At those words, the holy elemental whizzed forward, hurriedly distancing itself from the crazed young man.

"Get back here, you arrogant elemental!" yelled Harry angrily, chasing after it. "You wanted to know why I was in awe of you the first time?! It was because ever since I met you, I always wanted to do this! I'm sure the old man possesses the correct apparatus to cut you into pieces!"

Situations like this generated judgments in people on how insane it could be, if it were not for the hilarious sight of one of the most powerful magical creatures in history, being hunted down by an enraged youngster. (The key to one of the lost magic might be resided in you, so I'm not going to grieve over you! As a matter of fact, no one will!) In his frenzy state, Harry had wandlessly conjured a sword, and had taken upon himself on swinging it violently side to side, striving to reach the elemental.

They were both halted in their tracks by a familiar ancient man ambling in the same hallway as them. "My, my, you two are energetic as always. If you two please, the many artifacts and ornaments paraded all over the hallways are very valuable to me. Some cannot be repaired with magic. Many, if not most, I have collected for long years, hence I would be grateful if none of them are spoiled." Skip snatched this opportunity to shelter behind Merlin, poking its glowing orb round to spy warily on Harry's movement.

"Step aside, old man! I'm going to slice that useless elemental!" hollered Harry, pointing the sword threateningly.

"Harry, please…" Merlin gazed upon the blade and it perished, disintegrating into nothing. "You are aware nothing can harm Skip, are you not?"

"Like hell I care!" Harry seethed. "That elemental has too much pride in itself!"

A sword was, again, conjured into his hands, and once more, it crumbled into emptiness once more. Blinking his eyes owlishly, he glared fiercely at the culprit.

"Harry, do leave poor Skip alone. And Skip, stop antagonizing Harry, if you please." The elemental gave some form of gesture that he understood perfectly. "Excellent. Now, come with me, Harry. There is something I ought to show you before you depart to Hogwarts." If Harry was to look back at the elemental one last time over his shoulder, he could see the elemental was tantalizing him.

* * *

><p>"That elemental infuriates me to no end!" groused Harry, folding his arms over his chest. "I should have carve it and be done with it!"<p>

"Calm yourself, Harry. Anger is one emotion that can be uncontainable and it frequently controls us with our less than irrational thoughts. We must train ourselves not to allow our anger conquer us, for it will guide us to nothing but disastrous outcomes and it will compel us to do something we will greatly regret later on. What is more, our image is a reflection of our actions, so do not do anything that will fill you with the feeling of remorse, dear child."

"Yeah, yeah, old man, I get it." Harry brushed off glibly. "I'm just spewing nonsense. I didn't mean any of it. I know Skip was only teasing me. He loves it every time I get riled up over nothing."

He was now in the basement of the mansion with the old man. Unlike the common household basement, Harry felt the old man's basement was more comparable to a dungeon. Dark, creepy, strange coldness trapped on the walls and more importantly, depression was all over the place. In place of the normal modern lights that even a majority of wizards used nowadays, torches could be seen. Nevertheless, in contrast to older dungeons, it didn't reek with death. In the room, there were jars with different colored contents on the shelves, and other apparatus was scattered across the floor, most of which anyone would imagine within a laboratory.

In addition to this, Harry could discerned many long bookcases and at the other end of the room only darkness could be spotted. These bookcases were packed with ancient books, spell tomes and knowledge that would make people salivate. Most of the ancient knowledge secrets could be uncovered here.

Harry had once snuck to this place when he was nine and endeavored to read one of the books, except as soon as he opened the book, he couldn't locate any words within it. He was immediately caught red-handed by the old man and Merlin proceeded in elucidating him the reason behind it. Since Harry was not the owner of the books, he could not read it, in fact no one could, with the exception of Merlin himself. To top it all off, it was also the place where Merlin conducted his researches, as well as training Harry physically and mentally, etc. The place could also be depicted as a huge library that would put Hogwarts' to shame.

At present, the old man's back was facing Harry, as he was working on something. There would be a brief of glow here and there, and as intriguing it was during his childhood, it was developing into tediousness, seeing as all he could do was monitor the old man from afar. Idly, he approached one of the jars. He pounded the glass lightly, drumming it insistently. Yelping, Harry was confronted with two big bulbous yellow eyes. He hopped back from the jar, mechanically sealing his lids.

"Ah, I see, you have discovered the Basilisk's eyes. Fascinating, is it not, Harry? The sizes of those eyes are thrice larger than our own," Merlin butted in, looming behind Harry. "Do not worry Harry, its eyes cannot kill you any longer."

"I-I know that! It's just instinct…" Harry's whole body quivered. The sight of those eyes reminded Harry vividly of what transpired in the chamber. He cringed in the slightest at recalling the horrid experience. "But… it's strange… Momentarily, I could've sworn I sensed a pulse of magic in it."

"And that is where the secret lies, how it kills its prey with one single look."

Harry was in rapt attention. "What do you mean?"

"Harry, the Basilisk existed before the founders of Hogwarts were even born. I will not deny its reputation as one of the most fearsome beasts history has ever known. And it is with a large possibility, the great serpent existed even before my time."

"W-wait, I thought this creature was first bred by some wizard named Herpo the Foul. He achieved it by hatching a chicken beneath a toad which resulted in the manifestation of the Basilisk." Harry tilted his head to the side as realization dawned to him. "Although, I don't know if the information was right at all. After spending years with you, old man, I'm beginning to lose faith in wizardry's historical sources."

"I am glad I have instilled some positive influences in you, dear child." Merlin smiled, a couple of books perpetually floating around him in circle. "What you say is, for the most part, true. Herpo was not the man whom first bred the Basilisk however, it was perhaps done ages ago. By who, I do not know."

"Whether it is positive or not, it is still widely debated. I even picked up a few of his habits these days." He, then, raised his voice, "Perhaps?"

"Stay with me, Harry, all your questions will be answered," Merlin urged, pacing back to forth. "Yes, perhaps… In my time, this creature was no longer sighted. I believed, by King Arthur's era, the Basilisks were extinct and it was possibly due to many reasons. Nevertheless, the faults can be largely laid to the people who hunted the beasts for fortune and such, or its kind was eradicated in King Uther's great purge." He stroked his chin with his right hand, submerging into deep thought. "Yes, this may conceivably be the right fact. It is no wonder as to why Arthur and I never met such creature before."

"So, what are you saying is this Herpo guy…recreated the Basilisk by luck?" Harry asked tentatively. "Very silly name, I might add too."

The old man looked up with a rare glint in his twinkle cerulean eyes. "Yes, that is what I believe…"

"Is there any evidence to substantiate your claims?"

"There is." Merlin indicated it to the Basilisk's eyes.

"The eyes?"

"Indulge my curiosity with an answer, Harry. Have you ever felt some form of repulsive magic pressuring your eyes when you stared directly at it?" Harking back the memories, Harry's expression morphed to grim. "By your reaction, it would seem you have indeed felt it."

Harry was no simpleton, no, he was far from it. He instantly caught on to what the old man was implying. "Y-y-you're telling me, t-this… _thing_ has the same _Mystic Eyes_ as us! Impossible! It's a creature, old man, not a human being like us! You taught me the _Mystic Eyes_ is another way of exploiting magic! What I experienced from the Basilisk is completely different." Involuntarily, a shiver ran up to his spine.

"Yes, it is undeniably a creature, but a magical one…" Merlin motioned the youngster over to the jar. "Look closely, Harry, and tell me what the color of those eyes reminds you of." Harry studied the bulbous eyes very thoroughly. "Can you see it, Harry? Those colors are very akin to the color of _Mystic Eyes_."

"Nearly, old man," Harry retorted. "Those eyes are yellow, ours are in gold color, not to mention our eyes will glow a little whenever we employed the _Mystic Eyes_. Besides, it's cooler and makes us more mysterious that way, not creep-ish." A scowl etched his face. "On top of that, I refuse to be put in the same category with this _thing_ if it related to magic."

"Harry, I hardly concern myself over how mysterious the eyes can be or how much 'cool' it is…" Merlin smiled at his pupil's attitude. "To contradict your words, those eyes are truly the _Mystic Eyes _we both came to know. I had acquired a theory on how their eyes underwent the color yellow instead of gold. For us, utilizing the _Mystic Eyes_ only occurred each time we wished to activate it."

"Yeah, like a switch, damn handy too…" Harry talked softly in the background.

Not heeding the murmur, Merlin went on, "Magic flowed to our eyes causing the abnormal changes of our eyes, but for us, the alteration is merely temporary-"

"That's not true," Harry interjected briskly. "Remember my fight with the Slytherin's pet? I had to maintain my _Mystic Eyes _to counter the Basilisk's deathly murderous gaze. If not, you would be conversing with my corpse right now."

"Ah, but remember, you preserved the _Mystic Eyes _with just enough time to slay it. Thus, in a manner of speaking, it still consider as provisional, Harry."

Harry leaned to the Basilisk's eyes, tapping the jar with his knuckles. "So what are you saying, old man?"

"For us, the _Mystic Eyes _are more of temporary occurrence. For the Basilisk, however, I inferred their eyes are more of permanent. For that simple reason, the Basilisk's eyes gradually took the color of yellow, opposed to color gold like us…" Merlin inclined his body forward, peering over the Basilisk's eyes, adjacent to Harry. "There is a probability their colors are originally gold, and after months of sustaining the form of _Mystic Eyes_, the color changes…"

"Permanent? How?" Harry was baffled. "How is the Basilisk able to hold so much magic in its eyes for a prolonged time? That's insane. You know how excruciating it is when you channel your magic through your eyes? There is a reason as to why 'eyes' are regarded as the most sensitive part in our body. You told me yourself that even you have consequences if you retain your _Mystic Eyes _for a long period of time. Heck, you even warned me how it nearly blinded you after you tried it once!"

"The wonders of the mysterious is remarkable, is it not, Harry?" His eyes shimmered brightly, like a child having fulfilled their desires. "Even after I decapitated those eyes from its body, they were still imbued with magic. Even as we speak now, you can feel the pulse of its magic… Truly extraordinary…"

"Hmph," Harry harrumphed, recovering himself from his position. "I bet there were more powerful monsters in your time than the Basilisks. The only reason it is so powerful is because Slytherin did something to it, or you could say he mutated the Basilisk. I'm just thankful I survived and won against it… Which reminds me-" Harry twirled his head to the old man. "Whatever happened to the rest of the Basilisk's parts? You know the venom, its magically thick scales, fangs and its internal organs? What did you do to it?"

"It is stowed with the rest of the ingredients I have accumulated over the years from different kind of magical monsters."

"I bet the ingredients of those creatures are more legendary, powerful and some kind of creatures that people like me could only dream of. I'd even wager my life that Daphne would willingly exchange her soul for those ingredients." Harry puckered his lips. "Have you ever thought of yourself as a collector, old man? I noticed some of the artifacts you also collect are from Muggle history, the armor, the weapons and other things are from important events in Muggle history, like a big war or something."

"Hmm, I suppose you can portray me as such, Harry. I do love collecting historical objects, be it magical or non-magical. It assists me in connecting myself back to my time…" Merlin had a faraway heartrending expression on his face.

In his stance, Harry fidgeted slightly, unease. "Y-you still haven't told me how the Basilisk can kill its prey with one single look." Secretly, Harry already knew how the Basilisk did it. He was merely distracting his mentor from revisiting his old memories, not having the desire to see him in pain.

Merlin fluttered his eyes. "Dear me, Harry, I thought you would have understood how its eyes functioned. Well, never mind then, I will gladly explain it. Come, let us extract ourselves from this environment and adjourn ourselves to the garden."

Harry tailed behind the ancient man, his brown coat was dangling on his right forearm while his Ascot hat tucked inside one of his trouser's back pockets. "I do actually understand how it killed its prey. Back when I battled it, I felt some sort of force- no, magic clashing with my own magic when I stared it directly to its eyes. It was as if it was trying to penetrate inside my body… My conclusion afterwards was the Basilisk's magic reacts differently inside other beings. Simply put, it's like Muggle chemistry. When you mix two disagreeable chemicals, it causes a reaction - a chaotic kind of reaction. I deduced that's how it is. I think we can agree and be confident on one thing. The Basilisk's magic is revolting and very much violent. No such being, human or inhuman, would want it inside it. And it is powerful enough to petrify us, just by catching its gaze through a reflection."

"You are correct, Harry. And yes, the Basilisk's magic is one of the most repulsive I have encountered in my life," he said with a hint of disgust. "I have analyzed every part of the Basilisk in many ways, each time attesting to most of my speculations, including as to how I am so convinced its eyes has the same _Mystic Eyes _as ours. Though, I must say I am very impressed on how Salazar could improve his pet into a more of a superior breed."

"You're thinking the Slytherin's pet is like a new and stronger breed than any of the other Basilisks, aren't you?"

"Indeed, I am, Harry. You have no idea how much magic the serpent has in itself. I believe Salazar also fed it with potent potions to make it more powerful. Even to this very day, the stain of those potions lingers in the serpent's body." In a steady pace, they had now elapsed many artifacts as they kept on sauntering through the hallways. "Nonetheless, the creature can still be regarded as average in comparison to the many creatures I have dealt in the past."

"It feels like he's mocking the present world and calling it weak, compared to his world," Harry thought out loud, with a poker face. "For some reason, I'm glad I wasn't born in King Arthur's age… Damn it, comparing Slytherin's pet like that, to the creatures in his time no less and saying the Basilisk to be average too… Did he think it was easy for me to beat it? It makes me question as to what kind of world he faced in the past. Can't say it's easy to picture…"

"Once you obliterate its lethal gaze by blinding it, it can be killed easily. Even a simple knight with a sharp sword could manage the beast all by himself. But, if it is Slytherin's pet, ten knights should do it." Merlin's smile lengthened at Harry's not-so-low tone. "And, child, daydreaming can be the source of your troubles in the future, so best not do it quite often."

"I do not daydream, old man!" Harry snarled, marching by Merlin's side. He blamed Callista for that. Over time, she could be found speaking to herself and Harry constantly caught onto her act. Additionally, he teased her whenever it transpired. Now, it appeared to be her habit rubbing it off on him. If she knew about this, their roles would be swapped and Harry was exceedingly certain she would do it mercilessly. "Anyhow, can you explain to me how the _Mystic Eyes_ could do that? I mean, how the Basilisk could transfer its magic into a being? Is the Basilisk's _Mystic Eyes_ a different version than us?"

"No, certainly not, Harry. As I informed you earlier, it is similar as us."

He looked inquisitively at his mentor. "Then how?"

"…There is a little bit of information I have failed to mention to you, Harry…"

"Which is?"

"Did you know the _Mystic Eyes _have more abilities than what they appear to? Applying magic is just one of its other functions."

"No, I think you forget to tell me about it," Harry grounded out through his gritted teeth. "So you're telling me it has other powers?"

"If that is the kind of word you use to illustrate it, then yes, it is."

"Seriously? Can you show it to me, old man?" Harry swiftly amended at his mistake, "N-not on me, of course! I want you to demonstrate it for me…"

"I am afraid I cannot do that, Harry." Harry was astounded to note the sheepishness in the man's tone. "Mine do not possess any other uses apart from exploiting my magic through my eyes. As a matter of fact, I do not know much in regards to the _Mystic Eyes_."

"What!" If Harry was astonished earlier on, it didn't match up to the feeling he's in now. "You, the Lord of Magic, who has supreme and infinite knowledge of magic, is telling me you don't know more about the _Mystic Eyes_ apart from using magic through our eyes? Then, how come you are so sure about the Basilisk?" Harry cast him with a deadpan look, lips thinned. "Old man, I'm beginning to doubt of what you say is true at all… Or, you've just gone barmy after living in solitude for so many years…"

Merlin looked a bit affronted. "Harry, never doubt the information or facts that have churned out of my mouth. I assure you everything I said is true, child."

"Whatever you say, old man…" Harry couldn't fight the smirk from manifesting. "So you don't know much about the _Mystic Eyes_, but you still know a few things about it, right?" Harry shook his head. "No, no, that came out really wrong…" Harry dropped his smirk, reflecting his words. "Knowing you and in translation to your words, it is not the knowledge you don't know, it's how to _unchain_ these other abilities…"

"Would you care to hear a story, Harry?" Merlin chuckled heartily when Harry's eyes lightened up. In spite how he had grown, he still loved listening to old legends and ancient stories from the old man. "This story may well be related to the _Mystic Eyes_…"

Now, they were exiting the mansion and progressing onto the gardens. Birds were chirping, the sweet aroma of nature drafted across the atmosphere, gusts of wind blowing gently and the aura was differed to the basements. Internally, Harry expressed to himself how invigorating the place is. Eyes squinting, he shielded his eyes from the brilliant light of the sun, all at once scrutinizing the environment.

"Old man, you have got to do something about your garden. If Regine was here with us, she would faint within seconds. It's horrid." Harry's plain description spelled out everything wrong in the garden. Notwithstanding the feeling, the garden's appearance complemented the mansion's appearance. Withered trees with no green leaves, more brown than green amid the grass, and not a single flower bloomed beautifully. "See, this is the problem right here. How can you try not to attract any attention from the local people, if your garden and your mansion are like this! I know I'm not the most fashionable person ever, but it's not going to take a genius to tell you how hideous and spooky it is."

"You can say whatever you wish, Harry. I stand by my belief."

"Belief had nothing to do with this, old man." Sighing exasperatedly, Harry's shoulders slouched.

"Oh?" Merlin batted his eyelashes a few times. "Well, just overlook it as it is and concentrate on our previous discussion." Harry sat on one of the comfortable chairs set out in the garden. "Now, onto the story, shall we?" Merlin imitated Harry's action, procuring a seat for himself. "Do you know of Greek Mythology, Harry?"

"You mean, if I ever forget it? No, not really… I enjoyed hearing the tales of heroic deeds done by the heroes in that mythology. You always narrated it to me during my childhood, telling me in dramatic gestures and having special effects with your magic…" A smile instinctively lit up Harry's face at relieving such memories. "You even had Skip dress up like a Trojan soldier once." Harry freely slipped out a grin. "Skip was all for it though. I even thought he was caught up with the actions more than the story…"

Merlin chortled delightfully at this.

"How about the tale of a gorgeous maiden converted into hideous creature?"

"Medusa?" Harry's eyes flashed in understanding. "Oh, I see how this connects. It was said people turned to stone when they looked at her monstrous face." His face scrunched up. "You're going to tell me Medusa is not how the tale makes her to be, right? You believe her owning the same eyes as to ours?"

"Medusa and her sisters are often portrayed in the form of snakes, but they are not what the legend or the modern cultures insinuate them to be. In truth, they are beautiful sisters that live on an isolated island. Men lusted after them, women grew envious of them and because of that, their existence was cursed by the people. And in time, it led to many people provoking them and ultimately, the actions turned into attacks."

"Because of those reasons, it propelled the Gorgon sisters to take refuge on an island, far away from their assailants. However, Medusa was not content, Harry. The disgrace left her bitter and spiteful towards humanity for treating her as such. This resentment intensified to the point where she killed invading men who lusted after her and her sisters, which from that point on is how the legend of monster 'Medusa' was created."

(I would've felt the same way if I was treated as such. She had done nothing wrong but she and her sisters were chased away from their birth place. It's true what they say then, envy is the ugliest thing.)

"But, the most key point here is how she killed her victims. Just about all of her victims were turned into a stone. Listen Harry, Medusa was like 'us'. Like my generation of magical people, she was blessed with _Mystic Eyes_. Though the Gorgon sisters were blessed with many comparable things such as their beauties, or their beautiful long hairs, Medusa was more special than her older siblings. I believe Medusa was born with the highest rank of the _Mystic Eyes_ which is-"

"-the Petrifaction?" prompted Harry.

"Exactly, Harry. It was said Medusa's eyes can transmute all living flesh under her gaze into a stone."

"Hmm…" Harry hummed, with a meaningful look on his face. "But, old man, you said the highest rank… I don't think it is the highest rank given that the Basilisks can petrify its victims with their gaze, even if it is through reflection."

"Ah, that is true, but a Basilisk's petrifaction can be cured. Medusa's petrifaction, on the other hand, cannot be cured…"

Harry nearly fell off his seat. "What?"

"Basilisk's petrifaction purely petrified the outer of our body, not the inner. That is why it can be healed by means of potions. If your insides could not digest the potion, then there is no meaning to it. As you can see, Harry, a Basilisk's petrifaction influenced only the outside, not inside. Medusa's petrifaction, however, had an effect on both the inside and outside, thwarting any methods in nursing her victims back to health."

"That's truly d-dreadful…" Harry whispered. "I-I never thought of it in such a way… I just thought it's the same thing…"

"…I do suppose Petrifaction is not the highest rank of _Mystic Eyes_…" Merlin mumbled, briefly not paying attention to Harry. "Do you know of Balor, Harry?"

"Balor?" Harry perked. "The ancient Celtic god of darkness and great-grandfather of Cu-Chulainn? The true king of the giants' race? Yes, you told me all about him when I was little."

"It was mentioned in many ancient books how Balor possessed an unnamed eyes. Now, the description of the eyes had shown he possessed the same as ours, even though the name was never mentioned. Would you believe me if I told you that Balor can actualize the death of a target, just by glaring it?"

Chocking on his saliva, Harry tumbled from his seat this time. "W-what? He had the same eyes as ours too?"

"Yes, it was the truth. As I told you before, Harry, the _Mystic Eyes _can indiscriminately cast magic upon anyone within sights, though the effect is vastly increased if your target meets your gaze. That is the basic of _Mystic Eyes_."

"Yeah, you told me about it." Harry crawled back to his seat.

"But, that is the common ability of _Mystic Eyes_. In my time, all of the magical people who acquired such eyes knew by instinct is to cast magic with it. Over long years, I learned that it retained more than one ability. The identified types of _Mystic Eyes _are Binding, Charm, Compulsion, Enchantment, Illusion and Whisper. If you wish, you can include Transfer, Petrifaction and lastly, Death."

Hairs stood up at the back of Harry's neck, fear stabbed his heart. "It makes me wonder what kind of world was in the past. So much power and then more power…" Harry shivered. "I think we'll just skip the _Mystic Eyes _for now, old man. I think it's enough for me to know its other abilities. If you don't know how to unlock the rest of it, then I'm more likely to be clueless on how to do it." Like lightning struck his head, his eyes narrowed. "You're a liar, you old fox…"

Merlin was taken aback at the accusation. "What do you mean, child?"

"You said your eyes only know how to cast magic, but you're lying! You said one of the abilities is Whisper, right? And, I'm positive this Whisper is a hypnotic suggestion! And, damn it, you've hypnotized me many times into sleeping!"

The old man hurriedly whirled his head away. "I have no idea what you are carping, child."

"At first, I thought it was your smile enthralling me into asleep, but truthfully it was your eyes, wasn't it?!"

"Again, I stress on the fact that I do not have any faintest clue on what you are saying, Harry."

Harry grumbled, glaring. "Fine, don't answer me. It's not like it can affect me anymore if I can counter it with my eyes."

With that, comfortable silence descended upon them. Not wanting to waste his time glowering all day, he chose to enjoy the scenery instead. Even though it was not the most wonderful sight, it had a sense of refreshment. Harry rocked his body on his seat, pursing his lips as a sudden thought thrust to his mind. He did have a promise to fulfill, firstly though, he had to verify something from the old man.

"Hey, old man." Harry squirmed in his seat uncomfortably, licking his dry lips. "D-do you have any uh… l-l-lovers back in your time?" Merlin had a perplexed expression on his face. In a snail's pace, his lips coiled into a captivating smile. For Harry, it was more of an evil smile. "W-what?"

The ancient man concealed his mouth with the back of his hand, putting no effort in obscuring his amusements. "My, I did not know you are in need of love advice from me, Harry. Tell me, who is the lucky maiden? Is it one of those charming beautiful girls that are surrounding you so often, Harry? Has one of them managed to ensnare your heart, Harry? Or, is it all four? Hmm, you are so ambitious and greedy to have all of them to yourself. Then again, nothing is ordinary for you, Harry, and I am afraid it will never be. They do say a heart of a man can be big enough to love all four women."

"W-what are you saying, you old geezer!" Harry sputtered, blushing hotly. "How did our conversation end up like this? I-I… I m-mean they're…" Harry shook his head furiously, face drowned in red. "T-they're just my friends! They don't have deep feelings for me! And, I do not have any feelings for them, whatsoever! So, suck it up, you stinky old fox!"

"Oh, is it really? I am only watching it from the sides. How is it I can see right through it?"

"Y-You're so irritating, old man! What's with that knowing look, huh? Wipe it off from your face!" Harry flushed more deeply, muttering more inaudibly to himself. "Forget it, I was trying to be nice and ask him indirectly, but now, I'm in no mood for it." He looked to his side. "Say, what's the true reason you invited me to your place? Aside from regular training, I presumed it's something of importance. I can tell I'm not here just to have a chat with you."

Merlin soundlessly handed him an open book. "What can you see, Harry?"

"What can I see? There's nothing in it, we both know I can't read any of your books… Eh?" A picture slowly materialized itself on the page, and words, bit by bit, became visible. "How? I thought I can't read any of it."

"I am only allowing you to read this book. The rest of them, I still haven't permitted it."

Without much complaining, Harry pried the book from his mentor's hand. "This looks like a… Dementor…"

"And, what do you know of them?" It was a question asked in a cold tone.

"They were considered amongst the foulest creatures that have walked in this world. They infest the darkest and filthiest places. They glory themselves in decay and despair. They also suck peace, hope and happiness out of the air around them. That's what it says in Wizard books."

"Not drain, but it is simply the aura they induced."

"It's still the same, old man…" Harry retorted, slamming the book shut and let it aside. "Do you know of their origin?"

"I know more than that. They are traitors…"

"Traitors?" Harry's eyes widened. "You're saying it is as if they were humans before they became foul creatures?"

"Yes, they most likely were. Care for another tale, Harry?"

"By all means, old man. I don't mind… So you do know them, don't you? The way you said it, it was like you knew them personally, like an acquaintance or an enemy. So what's the story behind the Dementors?" Harry was eager to unveil the mystery shading the Dementors.

"Yes, you could articulate it as if they were friends… or comrades…" Wide childlike eyes, Harry scooted his chair closer. "Back in the time of war, where Arthur trampled over his enemies and victory was so near in his grasp, there was a group- a unit of specialized soldiers capable of using magic. They were the only troop which comprised people who had magic within them. They were the first and last magical troop to have been assembled by Arthur. I, along with your ancestors, was asked by the king to oversee such troops, as both of us were versatile in magic than anyone else in his armies.

"Nonetheless, they were very arrogant in their knowledge of magic, claiming they themselves were more superior to any person in Camelot, including Lady Morgana herself." A beat pounded Harry's heart at the name. "Honestly-" Merlin smiled coldly which was very unlike him. "In my entire life, I had never seen such conceit in one army. In spite, we were told to be in command of them, they never adhered to us. They were already led by a leader of their own and I must say he was powerful in the arts of magic."

"It sounds like they were a clan of magical people, instead of being gathered one by one by King Arthur."

"You guessed it right, Harry. In the middle of the Great War, we heard rumors of people, men and women, who survived from the Great Purge of King Uther, and they had assembled in one island in which they made claim of to be their territory. They set up their own wards, barriers, fields or whichever you prefer, to prohibit people from entering their island. Arthur ordered an expedition to search for them and the expedition was a success. All of them joined up arms for the king and swore a magical oath to him. The Oath was that their magic would be in Arthur's hands if they ever betrayed him."

"So naturally, they did betray you all in a few years."

"Victory was so near, Harry, so close… We could end the years of raging war in that battle, that battle was a gamble for us. We were prepared to die for the victory. No more shedding blood, innocence would never be endanger, the country could be restored to its former glory and enemies of the King would eventually yield if we would just win that particular battle. But, not everything went according to plan, as the unexpectedness came from those traitors. They left the battle to ourselves, to die by the hands of our enemies. I lost many friends in that battle and the survivors were very few because of their betrayal. Arthur was outraged. No… rage could not even begin to describe to what I saw on his expression.

"With their oath on his hand, he cursed every one of them, he cursed them for the many lives that had been taken in the battlefield, he cursed them for their betrayals and continued to curse them till his rage faded. Arthur cursed them to not pass on to the afterlife, cursed them to suffer in the darkness for eternity, cursed them to seek only the filthiest place in the world, cursed them to only glory themselves in decay, cursed them to no longer feel the joy of happiness and the only thing that remained was despair. Arthur did curse them not to be humans, however, to be the lowest creatures imaginable. The effect was instantaneous as those people were never seen again. Rumors said they were trapped in their own island, with the curse binding them there."

"And that's where the Dementors were born? The island is what the present world knows as the Azkaban Island, isn't it?"

"Indeed, Harry."

Harry was rendered speechless for a while, collapsing into the soft textures of the chair. He was left without any qualms that the words from the old man's mouth were truthful, every bit of it. He had known the old man was never one to lie on such things and judging from Merlin's face, it was easy to conclude everything was true. Moreover, Harry had no reason to not lay his complete trust to his mentor.

"I advise you not to go anywhere near them, Harry. It is best to stay far away from them as much as you possibly can."

"I got the feeling I knew that already. If I am truly the direct descendant of my ancestor, I think they will see me as my ancestor," said Harry. "Hey, old man, can the curse really work that way? I never heard of such thing…"

"Remember Harry, magic was at it's heightened peak in my time, coupled with the oath they swore to Arthur, it is possible such things can occur. If they had not given their oath, then they may have mercy to only be executed to death as punishment fit for their crime. But, they were too arrogant of themselves, too sure of themselves and in the end, they faced the consequences of their arrogance. Even the knights, who served Arthur and were very loyal to him, were too terrified of the consequences of such oath. King's words were a law to us and magic deemed us worthy to follow to those who lead us till death part us from our leaders."

"To them, it's more of blessing than a curse. They may look like they were obeying the minister's orders, but they were only looking out for themselves. In the first war, they may have used Voldemort as their puppet, just to suck more souls," Harry commented maturely.

"Yes, I should have destroyed them from existence. They only wreak the world with nothing but harm."

"Then, do it. What's holding you back?"

"They have already made a big impact in the world. If they were to suddenly cease to exist in one night without any reasonable explanations, it would instigate many people probing into such matters and one day, their search would have ended here, ended in knowing the existence of the ancient world. The world that had lay in deep slumber for many years," Merlin rationalized sensibly.

"Was it really important to ward off the knowledge of the ancient world from the present world? With the exception of me, don't they have the right to know?"

"Do not forget that power comes from knowledge and the more knowledge people gain, the more they improve themselves. If the knowledge is crucial and contains so much power, it could only bring disaster. I have witnessed many times how humanity brought the world to the brink of destruction, and I would condemn myself if it were to happen again. No, it is best for the world to remain oblivious of the power we held back in the old age." Merlin held out his left hand in soft gesture as a couple of birds landed on his fingers, singing melodically. "I do intend to destroy their leader… Without him, they are nothing but mindless beasts that needs to be guided. He is both foolish and smart to exclude himself from the world. No matter, once I do locate him, I will demolish him…"

"Leader?" Harry was overwhelmed by astonishment. "You mean those beasts have someone commanding them?"

"You said it, yourself, Harry. They fooled your ministry into thinking they could control them when they have their own leader observing the ongoing of the world. I did mention they have a powerful leader of their own, even before they transformed into such foul beasts."

"If that leader is only watching from afar, then what harm he could bring?"

Merlin peered closely over Harry with his cerulean eyes, causing him to feel awkward. "Regardless of his monstrous appearance, that leader is the only individual who is sane enough to withstand the King's curse for such a long time. He is more frightening than any of them. He is waiting for the right opportunity to devour hundreds of souls, Harry. Bear in mind, this event had once happened years ago. An innocent town was piled up with hundreds of bodies with no soul in it, men, women, children and even very young toddlers. The world simply labeled it as a disaster occurrence with no idea what was happening. I would not be surprised if he was more powerful and dissimilar than the rest of his underlings."

"An innocent town…piled up with hundreds of bodies, but no soul in them…?" A cold chill pierced his body. "Then, w-what are you waiting for, old man? If that is all he had done over a thousand of years, then how many victims have fallen to him? There could be more than thousands of victims already…" Harry's body trembled without him aware of it. "Innocent souls sucked up just to quench his desire and hunger…"

"What do you think I have been doing for the last years, Harry? I have been searching for him, yet he managed to shirk away from me… It appears that he knew I was coming for him, so he hid himself pretty well, merely waiting for the right opportunity to strike again…"

"You never told me of this before… Why?"

"If do mention it to you, then what are you going to do, Harry? Seek him out? Hunt him down? Look at yourself, your whole body is shaking in fear… He is not an opponent you could tackle with just your willpower, Harry... Consider him a being that is out of _your _world…"

"…You are going to find him and annihilate him, right?" Merlin nodded his head, certifying his motive. "Then, show him no mercy. It's quite unforgivable for him to target innocent souls. Have you ever checked Azkaban?"

"Harry… that would naturally be the thing I would check first …"

"How is it the curse didn't bind them on the island anymore?"

"Arthur's death liberated them from being bound to the island…"

"I see… I could not imagine how magic function in your world, or the world before yours… One thing is clear to me, magic is a lot more powerful in ancient times than in the present times… How naïve magical people are these days… How naïve of me…" Harry remarked in a soft tone. "Is there a reason of this discussion? If it is for only maintaining my distance from them, then I don't have to worry about that. They're in Azkaban right now. Unless their leader commands them to capture me, I don't think they will disobey the ministry. They will be keeping their usual appearance as it is."

Merlin's right hand gripped the teen's shoulder tightly. "Harry… If you do encounter them, mainly their leader, then run. Run as far away as your legs can…"

"Wha-"

Merlin dismissed his astonishment. "You can feel it, can you not? Something inside you is on the verge of bursting, and right now, you are leaking magical energy everywhere you go. Normal magical and non-magical people are not aware of it, but people like us are, Harry. Those beasts will be drawn to you like a moth to a distant moon. One of the things they fear above all is something or someone jeopardizing their existence. So, please, maintain your distance from them. They will kill you without any signs of hesitation and they will do so without any mercy." Merlin shook his body at each word. "No doubt, you will be attracting _other_ attentions as well…."

"I-I'll try, old man."

Clasping his right hand on where his heart is, Harry could feel something was throbbing aside from his normal pulse. A flash of an enormous ethereal globe crashed into his mind. Holding his now dizzy head with his left hand, Harry grunted at the sudden intrusion. Lately, he had been getting those visions more frequently. He just hoped he would not be dead after all of this. He would not forgive himself if he's the one who make the girls cry. Strangely, the thought of death did not mind him the slightest. Taking into account his adventure into the realm in between life and death, it made him fear dying less.

* * *

><p>A burst of green fire ignited from the fireplace of the Potter mansion. Lost in his thoughts, Harry landed on his feet, not conscious of his lack of fall after travelling magically. A short time passed, he blinked his eyes rapidly and looked down, realizing he had not fallen on his butt. A triumphant look was plastered all over his face, so smug of his success he was. That is, before he lost his balance and ineptly tripped on his own feet, plummeting to the ground with heavy thud. Grunting, Harry cursed loudly to himself, massaging his aching buttocks incessantly.<p>

After countless incidents like this, it was now evident to Harry that there was a little devil scurrying around and pulling pranks on him. He can tell the devil's mock laughter was pounding his eardrum right about now, taking pleasure from Harry's demise. Harry shook his head, getting rid of such imagination. He must be losing his mind these days. Having taken off his coat and his hat, he exited the living room, showing himself right into the dining room. He stopped abruptly. His eyebrows knitted together in displeasure.

His family, along with his 'uncles', was having dinner on the long table, chattering amongst themselves, the big chandelier above the table shining brightly upon them. His little siblings were there as well. Stifling a growl, he tried not to produce too much noise, hoping not to give away himself as they were seemingly engrossed in the presence of each other. He should have gone home once everyone was asleep, late at night. Pressing his lips together tightly, he attempted to creep past them and tiptoed towards his room without a sound. Like everyone said, he was very good at sneaking around.

"Hawwy!"

Of course, it was futile as ultimately, he would be spotted by one person. He cringed at his sister's voice, foot frozen in mid-air as he climbed the stairs. The noise from below ceased straight away. Shoulders slumping, he exhaled his breath noisily. He reeled around to face them, glaring halfheartedly at his sister's cheery face. She was sporting a huge grin on her face, waving her right hand giddily at him as if Harry was far away from her.

"Harry!" Lily lightly exclaimed from her seat, next to James. Standing up, there was a huge smile on her lips. "You must be hungry. Come, have a seat and-"

"No, thank you," Harry cut her off brusquely, still on the stairs. "I already ate. I'm exhausted and in need of good rest." Awkward silence greeted them all. "Now, if you excuse me, I'll just be on my way to my room. …Um… good night…" Harry garbled at the last part of his sentence.

"Harry, wait!" It was his father. Harry had to gnaw his bottom lips from groaning. "W-we need to talk, this is very important…"

Harry noted the hint of seriousness in his tone. Sighing, he circled his body around for the second time. "I think it's rude to discuss imperative matters in the middle of dinner. It can wait for another time," he said deceptively, not having any intention in conferring anything with his parents.

"Harry… this is very important…" Harry wasn't paying attention this time, his beautiful emerald eyes were glued to the letters on the table. There was also a large square envelope. But, that was not what caught his attention. The envelope was slit open. Neat expensive folded parchment was on top of the envelope. His eyes narrowed, feeling suspicion surge throughout his body.

"Are those letters belongs to me?" In a flash, Harry picked up the letters one by one. The letters were from the girls, his two roommates, Jason Spum and Frank Brike, and surprisingly, Xi Li. It was not much of a shock he received a letter from Li since she had been mailing him with letters all summer and they've been keeping in touch with each other. What caught his attention the most was the large square envelope. It was his OWLs results. He snatched the expensive looking parchment and unfolded it.

Ordinary Wizarding Level Results

_Pass Grades:_

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

_Fail Grades:_

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

_Harry James Potter has achieved:_

Ancient Runes: E

Astronomy: O

Care of Magical Creatures: O

Charms: O

Defense Against the Dark Arts: O

Herbology: O

History of Magic: A

Potions: O

Transfiguration: O

Harry's eyes traced the parchment several times, wearing an expressionless face. He was not disheartened by the results of his OWLs. He had always known he won't get any 'Outstandings' in Ancient Runes and History of Magic, given that he wasn't good in runes and he was reluctant to go through the history examination, sleeping after he deemed he had answered enough to pass the exam. The girls were irate at his lack of motivation in the history exam, even Sheila was irked at him. Callista was, more or less, apoplectic at him.

"You got nine OWLs, Harry, isn't that great? Seven 'Outstanding'! That's more than great, it's actually amazing!" Daniel grinned in the direction of his elder brother. He knew if he planned to keep up with his brother, he had to work very hard in the future. A cold look from Harry was enough to discourage Daniel from opening his mouth for the rest of the night. The grin on his face faded in an instant.

"Why was it open?" Harry asked, a tinge of venom can be detected. "These are my letters, right?"

No one dared to speak a word. They were bowled over by how much anger was in his voice.

Mustering his courage, Remus finally answered it in behalf of everyone, "We were really curious and just wanted to see how you are doing."

"Then, you should contain that curiosity of yours and stop sniffing on other people's business. I supposed it is hard, considering how sharp your nose is. Then again, I don't know since I don't have one," Harry spat sarcastically, eyes perched on him. Remus was visibly shocked and appalled, though the latter he concealed it remarkably in front of everyone. He swiftly got the message on what Harry implied by means of his words. Harry rounded his parents and said in a much harsher tone than he intended it to be, "I will say it again! What rights do you have, opening my letter?"

"It's just one letter, Harry!" Sirius stated. He was a bit annoyed at the attitude Harry was displaying. "Look, we're sorry we opened it. But, how are we supposed to just ignore and restrain our urge in knowing your OWLs results, especially if all of us wanted to know how excellent you are in exams. You weren't around when the letter arrived, so we took the liberty in-"

"Am I speaking to you?" Harry disrupted his words indifferently, bearing cool expression on his face and not so much as glancing in Sirius's way. He was locking his gaze at both of his parents. "I believe I directed my earlier question to the two persons here, not you."

Rosaline sunk lower in her seat, nibbling her lips in anxiety. Daniel was taken aback by his brother's aggressiveness. They had never seen this side of their elder brother and this was the first time they ever had. Of course, his brother had his moment of being cold and emotionless in other occasions, mostly in the past, but he was always in control of his emotions, and he was never like this. It was like his feelings were previously being repressed and now, the time had finally come to unleash all of it, like a time-bomb. Moments of tension passed by and Harry grew aggravated by their lack of response.

"Tch, forget it…" Cradling his letters to his arms, he placed all of them carefully inside his coat's pockets.

His father rose from his seat, seizing his arm, foiling him from running off. "Harry, we're really sorry for prying your business… But, this is important, your mother and I have to talk to you." Harry's eyes blazed in fury at the word 'mother' and he shrugged his father's hand off him roughly.

"Then, out with it."

Lily avoided Harry's eyes and addressed to the other two adults, "Remus, Sirius, why don't you each take Daniel and Rosaline upstairs." James nodded his head, silently suggesting silencing charm in their room, in case the 'fireworks' were too loud. They understood from the beginning that they would have an inevitable confrontation with their eldest son and it appeared that the time had finally come.

"No, I think I should stay, you two. If things could get-"

"Sirius, stop, this is for us, not you," James said firmly. "Just go… Lily and I want to deal with this by ourselves… We don't want anyone to interfere…"

"James, are you sure?"

"Yes, Remus, just please, go. This is something we must deal with no matter what."

Remus elevated Rosaline from her seat and carried her to her room. Rosaline wasn't protesting much, just silently watching her parents and her brother in Remus's arms. Daniel eyed his parents and his brother, feeling unease at abandoning the three behind. He obediently tagged along with Remus up the stairs. He was wondering what in Merlin's name was going on between the three. He knew something was out of place with his parents and Harry, but he didn't bother much in investigating as to what, or why. Now, his own inquisitiveness was swelling. Sirius stubbornly held back, nevertheless after a pleading look from his best mate, he withdrew.

Harry was looking somewhat impatient. By the looks of it, his frustration intensified by the second. "Put privacy charm around us, I don't fancy them eavesdropping on what's coming." Harry, himself, knew this was an event that could not be evaded. Lily was the one who cast the charm around them, albeit tentatively. "What do you want to talk about?" Harry said, looking away from them. A scowl etched his face.

This was getting increasingly uncomfortable for him, but his anger was demanding him to face his parents. He could not continue eluding them forever. Sooner or later, it would've come down to confrontation whether he liked it or not. They may have wanted to talk to him regarding something of importance, but in the end, the conclusion of it turned out in a different way. If fate would have it, without having Harry letting loose his rage on them.

"Harry…" Lily started softly. She was cautious about saying the next part. "W-we um… we…"

Although, her relationship with Harry was non-existent, she still didn't have any desire to push him away.

Staring at his wife for a while, James decided he would be the one to disclose the news to his son. He was more than prepared for the upcoming storm. "…We're going to revoke your visitation rights for Hogsmeade…"

Harry froze on the spot at his father's words. The last bit of warmth fled from them, with the atmosphere sinking to ice. "What?"

Lily faltered at Harry's tone. "W-we have no choice, Harry… We have our reason for doing it… This is something that we have to do to protect you…"

"To protect me, you say?" Harry breathed those words. He chuckled dryly at the ironic. "You know what's funny? I can't remember the last time hearing that from either of you. As far as I'm concerned, I was the one protecting myself. So, I guess my little brother will not be having his Hogsmeade privileges revoked, huh?"

Lily's eyes welled with tears. She hastily wiped it, refusing to shed tears in front of her son. "Harry… W-we didn't mean for it to happen. We also aren't going to sign Daniel's permission for his Hogsmeade visit. This is something that we have to do in order to protect you both and not just Daniel alone. We have our own reason to do this…"

Harry inhaled a deep breath to pacify the wild storm in him. "Enlighten me as to why then."

"No, this is not something we could just carelessly tell you-"

"Lily," James interrupted.

"James, no, you couldn't possibly want to tell him, knowing the danger-"

"Lily," her husband interrupted her again and murmured, "If you don't, you're just going to push him away more. We discussed this already, didn't we?"

"Yes, but…" Lily bit her bottom lips, unable to form words.

James just detached himself from his wife and supplied Harry with the newspaper. Harry flipped the Dailey Prophet and felt inside him chilled, frosty as ice. Unconsciously, his hands clutched on the paper itself. There, on the front-page, a short man, barely taller than a fourth year, with filthy unkempt hair and a large bald patched on top. The indication of him being plump was there, but his appearance took more of a bony stature, after spending years in Azkaban. It was Peter Pettigrew. He had broken free of Azkaban.

At Harry's look, James continued, "So, as you can see the reason behind it, we have no choice. Pettigrew is out there, somewhere, and it's a dangerous time for our family right now. He could be after all of us. Harry, I won't deny the look on his face is one of insane-looking. That's what you get after spending years in the company of Dementors."

"Or, he's only targeting the boy-who-lived," Harry reasoned spitefully, scowling. "Look, I don't see any reason for him targeting me at all. I think he hardly knew I ever existed in the first place, unless he's been reading the newspaper on the Quidditch section which I doubt the prisoners ever get the luxury of being given a newspaper to them daily."

"Harry…" Harry rebuffed Lily from starting.

"Do you think just because of this, you're not going to permit me go to Hogsmeade weekend? I can understand my little brother, but I can take care of myself just fine. I don't need any protection from anyone and if he ever does come for me, he'll be in for a big surprise."

"Don't take this lightly, Harry-"

"I'm not taking anything lightly," Harry intruded James from finishing whatever he was trying to utter. "Do you know in my third year, I'm the only who didn't go to Hogsmeade, because I don't have anyone signing my form? I remained in the castle while everyone in my year went to Hogsmeade. I had to wait in my fourth year to visit Hogsmeade." His parents felt a rush of guilty at this, both not meeting his emerald eyes. "I'm not going to repeat that again while my other classmates in my year enjoy themselves. This is ridiculous. He's not going to murder me in daylights, especially if I'm surrounded with lots of people. I know how stupid he is, but I don't think he's stupid enough to take unnecessary risks.

"The point here is not him, it's you two. Why, all of a sudden, are you two making decisions for me? No one has been making decisions for me in my entire life as far as I know. What rights do you two have in feeling the need to decide things for me now? Was it because you both are my parents? Not good enough!" Harry yelled angrily, his knuckles white and jaws tightened. "In case you two forgotten, you two weren't exactly there the whole time…"

He was not holding anything back and Harry knew it subconsciously.

"Is that all?" He was desperate to get out of here as fast as he could.

Something was not right with him. He had been like this since last year, but recently, the _thing _inside him was influencing his emotions as well, pressuring him to get more vicious. The last thing he wanted to do now was something he would deeply regret later on. He wished to make amends with his parents, not strain their relationship further. If they had to go through confrontation first, then he didn't need it to end it in a bloody mess. Regrettably for Harry, it was not progressing the way he aimed it to be.

"We're sorry," James blurted out.

"Sorry…?" Harry hung the word in the air, emotions subsided for a second. "For trying to revoke my Hogsmeade privilege?"

"For everything…" Lily, against her will, chocked out a low sob, tears trickling down her cheeks. "We're really sorry, Harry… for everything…"

Something inside him snapped, every single of his emotion, anger, sadness, melancholy, loneliness, his inner child desire for his parents and so on, just erupted like a broken faucet. Additionally, right now, he had gotten another flash of enormous ethereal globe in his mind and inside him, something was bubbling dangerously. He was flaunting more magical energy than he usually was and it was compelling him to react more violent. He did his best to disregard the painful headache bashing his head.

"Sorry… Sorry, did you say? SORRY!" roared Harry with his visions turned red. "If you think saying sorry will make everything right, then you both are in for a rude awakening! Do you know how the hell I survived growing up by myself, huh?! I tell you, it wasn't easy! I began looking for myself by the time I turned five! I had to learn how to cook at the age of five! I remember how my hands burned from heating the pot! Hell, my brain even developed into mature from that point on!"

His right hand was gripping his Ascot black hat, with his deep brown coat dangling on his right arm, whereas he had his left hand on his forehead, clenching his head tightly and fingers treading his raven locks, nails dug on his skin. The throbbing on his head was getting harder to ignore.

"I went to Diagon Alley at the age of seven without anyone by my side! I had to do lots of errands in Diagon Alley at the age of seven, to buy something I desired! At the age of eight, I knew the people in the Diagon Alley more than my own parents! My only companions in this bloody huge ancestral Potter mansion are books! And, my first friend is loneliness! Is that how a child should undergo his childhood, huh?! I don't even bloody know my own parents, or remember the time when they said they love me!"

Lily was covering her mouth with both hands to suppress the sobs, tears openly seeping out of her eyes. James was hiding his eyes under the bangs of his raven hair, masking his shame look and probably his tears that were threatening to fall.

"We aren't proud of ourselves too. You were everything to us back then… You were my pride, my first born… And, to think, I've discounted you as if you weren't there for so long and you being independent to yourself all this time. When you finally clicked to my mind, I - we knew it was too late by then… It was funny how it was your first broom made me realize it and Lily realized it when she accidentally entered your room… We wished for it to never happen, we really do, Harry, but it was a wistful thinking… If one thing I deeply regret in my life is not having myself by my first son's side… I have to comment on one thing though… Without a doubt, you're the most talented Potter in brooms, already at the age of three able to fly like a professional…" James smiled, chuckling sorrowfully.

Harry discovered his father's speech to be mesmerizing. The rage, though, never wilted, and it was still flaring intensely. "We never hope for anything and honestly, we never hoped we could enter your life, even if we tried as hard as we could... We only wanted to express how sorry we are, and that's the only thing we can think of doing for you. I understand if you hate us for it and don't forgive us for leaving you to fend for yourself all this years. I know if it were me, I would've done the same thing. It's unforgivable… Just know we won't blame you for it, Harry…"

Out of the blue, a fist strongly collided James's face. He staggered several steps back and crashed to the ground. "James!" Gasping, Lily rushed to his side quickly, stray tears on both of her cheeks. Lips splitting, glasses skewed with a fracture on it and blood dribbled from his mouth. James knew he deserved it more than anything and he was slightly pleased his son was pouring out everything he's been bottling up until now. James touched his swollen lips delicately and winced at it. Damn, his son packed a good punch. It looked as if he had been training his whole life in hand-to-hand combat. Thankfully, he hadn't lost any of his teeth, all of it was still in one piece.

Breathing heavily from hitting his father, Harry was stunned by his own action. Eyes as large as saucers locked onto his fist - a speck of blood lay on it. He didn't know what forced him to land a blow on his father, but he did it out of impulsiveness. He was even putting in as much as force as he could gather. He didn't mean to do that. "Who said anything about me hating you? Who said anything about me having not forgiven you, huh? I never said that! Don't assume you ever know me! You think after saying sorry and me forgiving you two, everything will be easy and okay, is that it? Don't be naïve! Our relationship will be cursed to be strained for the rest of our lives and that's not even my fault to begin with! Whose fault is it?!"

Suddenly, everything was spinning around Harry as he wobbled on his two legs and he had to grab hold on the long dining table to support himself. He was sweating now, struggling for each sweet gulp of air and a drop blood just dripped on the table. It was emerging from Harry's nose. "Harry!" James and Lily regained themselves from the ground, approaching him hastily. "Stay where you are!" Harry shouted furiously, wheezing for air and his emotions drained from him. The sound of gritting teeth emanated from Harry. He was, again, assaulted by the vision and something was hammering his head.

Enduring the painful headache, he wiped the blood from his nose. "If you want to be on my good graces, then don't start making decisions for me. Don't revoke my Hogsmeade privilege, I can take care of myself, I've been doing it for years. For the very least, I want to live as a teenager of my age for my sixth year. I had enough sulking around about not having parents being there for me… Don't try to come anywhere near me for now and don't make any silly attempts to get close to me… I need some space and cool myself down before having a proper conversation with you two… This conversation is far from over and we all know it… I need time… Yes, time…"

Harry averted his eyes from his parents, knowing his eyes altered to the color of pure gold, glimmering faintly. It feels as if his magic was rebelling against him, activating the _Mystic Eyes _against his own will. With his back against his parents, he darted hastily towards his room. He passed his younger siblings on his way as they coincidentally exited Daniel's room. Twirling the knob of the door, he paused in his doorway and peeked over his younger siblings. As they caught a glimpse of his gold eyes, he hastily moved his head away from them and went to his room.

He shut the door with a thump and locked it. Spinning his body around, he supported his back against the door. His body slid down, taking his coat and his hat with him. Both fell to the floor, with the letters sprawled out of the coat's pocket. Chests heaving up and down, he shook his head with his eyes closed, multiple sweats trailed down his cheek. He first verified his magic settling down and after confirming it, he opened his eyes. It turned back to the color of emerald, having his magic receded. With the newspaper still in his left hand, Harry brought it to his face, reading the front page one more time.

"Pettigrew…" The hiss penetrated the silence and his eyes were glinting chillingly yet dangerously.

* * *

><p><strong>1 September 1993.<strong>

King's Cross Station was crammed with wizards and witches seeing their children off onto the train. The train itself, Hogwarts express, a scarlet steam engine, was puffing a smoke from its chimney. Harry was there, having again convened with the Greengrass'. To say Harry was amused by Daphne's behavior, would be understatement. Whenever Lady Greengrass smothered him, Daphne would clear her throat loud enough for her mother to return back fussing over her daughter. If she succeeded in garnering her mother's attention, she would then shot a haughty look towards Harry's direction.

"There's a lot of Aurors here…" Harry thought out loud, his sharp eyes stared at another pair of them.

"I can't say I'm surprise, lad, what with Pettigrew business and all." William situated a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry…"

"I know, I know, Lord Greengrass. You don't have to remind me, I'll take extra precautions from now on and I'll watch over Daphne and Astoria as well." That's right, Astoria attended Hogwarts this year with them. "There's a probability Pettigrew would've come after me, since I'm a Potter."

"Glad to hear, Harry." He patted Harry's back, smiling appreciatively. "My advice is to not seek out trouble and stay away from it."

"When was I not?" William was looking disbelieving. "It's true!"

"Lad, I may delve most of my times in politics, but I did not survive them merely because my wealth is immense. I know of your exploits with your friends over the last years you're in Hogwarts." He grinned at Harry's looks. "My wife and daughters may be smarter than I am, but I do have my fair share of intelligence."

"And I can tell Daphne got hers from both of you."

"Thank you, lad."

"I am only speaking the truth, Lord Greengrass."

"Mother, father, it'd be best we get going. We opt to search for a compartment and Tori needs to adjust. I want her to feel comfortable and ease herself up before the Sorting ceremony." Daphne's voice ruined any muses. "It won't be long before every student bombard the train, so we'll have to go and I mean now."

"Yes, yes, you all should go…" Elizabeth sniffed, tears brimmed her eyes. "My two girls have grown so big now… and with Tori leaving for Hogwarts, I'm going to be all alone in the big scary mansion… Poor me…"

"Now, now, dear…" William comforted, embracing his wife. "You still have me, your lovely husband."

"You're obsessed with working! How am I to know you're even there for me!" she hissed, elbowing his ribs. "You'd better accompany me a lot from this point on, you hear me, William Greengrass? Because if not, you're going to be sleeping outside the mansion!"

The now trembling man nodded his head shakily. "Yes, sweetheart! Absolutely! Most definitely! From now on, I'll do my best!"

"Don't worry, mother, I'll write to you every three days," Astoria perked, smiling. "I don't think daddy will be much of a companion for you."

Lady Greengrass smiled tearfully at her youngest, wrapping her arms around Astoria. "Oh, that is so sweet of you, Tori, and you're correct about your father. I wonder how I have fallen in love with such a douche-bag like him." The sound of 'I beg your pardon?' in the background can be heard.

"I, on the other hand, will write letters to you every week. One letter each week, mother."

Elizabeth pouted. "You're always like that, Daphne. Why can't you interact with your mother more?"

"Forget Daphne, mother, you have me." Astoria's smile was a bit devilish to everyone's liking.

Daphne huffed and gracefully glided towards Harry with her trunk in tow. Her wonderfully soft fingers didn't waste time entwining with his. She refused to look at him as Harry quirked an eyebrow in bewilderment at her gesture. Daphne's face tinged with tints of pink. "Come along, Tori. My patience is limited in waiting out for you. We already had our fair share of goodbyes so hurry up." Turning to Harry, she said in a commanding tone, "Let's go, Potter. I'm not going to wait for her any longer." She jerked Harry's hand doggedly, which led to Harry no other choice except to follow her.

"Go, Tori. Knowing your sister, she won't wait for you."

She nodded, offering one last hug to her parents and hurriedly pursued her sister. William draped an arm around his wife's slender figure.

"Am I to comment anything about that?" William motioned his wife in the direction of his eldest daughter boldly clinging to Harry's hand, not setting it free. "I'd hate to play the role of overprotective father if my daughter winds up dating to a young man that I'm absolutely fond of. I do not believe my intimidating figure would work much on him as well."

"Oh, hush you…" Elizabeth smacked her husband's chests, smiling stunningly. "We both are aware of Daphne is very much hopelessly in love with Harry. She _was_ quite smitten of him at first, but after years of spending so much time with him, there is no denying the love she has for him and I would not object if my future son-in-law is Harry. It's better than some nameless bloke I do not know of and do not trust. Harry would never hurt our daughter intentionally and he's a sweet gentle boy. Although, I don't think it would be simple for Daphne, given that Harry is pretty clueless of her feelings and not to mention, Daphne had fierce competition with their other three close friends. Harry appears to split all of his attention between four of them very fairly, yet he still does not know their true feelings for him. I hate to imagine the chaos it will result in if he chose one of them. I consider those three girls like my own daughters too as they've visited our mansion many times over the summers and I, for one, do not wish any of them to be hurt."

"Four girls chasing after one male? Now, how would you know that? In our time, I had to court just this one particular gorgeous woman, not girls flocking for me. She's quite invulnerable to any of my advances or to any other guys who persisted in wooing her…"

"Call it a woman's intuition, darling…" She grinned, patting his cheek gently. "Really? Chase her, did you? And, how did it end up? Did she reject you terribly?"

Bending down his head, he planted his lips firmly on hers. "Oh no, I married her and have been blessed with two beautiful daughters. They are just like their mother, so beautiful…"

"Gorgeous, is she?" Elizabeth whispered, eyes sparkling mischievously.

"The most…" William didn't display any signs of hesitation, swooping down to claim her lips.

* * *

><p>"Hah!" cried Sheila, triumphant. "I win again, Daph!"<p>

Blowing out her breath somewhat noisily yet frustratingly, Daphne threw the Muggle cards in her hands up in the air, all in a fit of irritation.

"Hey! Don't vent it out on the cards just cause you lose, Daph." Sheila collected the scattered cards.

"Like I care…" Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Daphne crossed her arms over her chests. "You must be cheating if you are on winning streak all the time."

Sheila stuck a tongue. "I'm a Gryffindor, Daph. Unlike you, my nobility prevents me to cheat my way through everything."

"I have you know, Jonnet, I do not resort to cheating to accomplish anything."

"Hah," she snorted. "Like I believe ya. 'Once a slimy snake always a slimy snake'."

Just about Daphne chucking insults at Sheila, the compartment's door slid open.

"Perfect timing, wouldn't you say, snake?" Sheila whispered, grinning to her Slytherin friend who was narrowing her eyes dangerously in return. "Welcome back, you three. How was the Prefect meeting?"

Harry skimmed past the girls and plopped in his typical seat, next to the window, across to Daphne's.

Callista and Regine smiled at each other. "Boring…" they reacted concurrently.

"So, all of you have already performed your duties then?" Daphne idly studied her perfect nails.

"Aside from people greeting us, or most of it Harry… Yes, we already did." Regine piped.

"I must say though, at the start of the meeting, it was, to a certain extent… interesting…" Callista sat on her seat, beside the compartment's door.

Regine looked at Harry, securing a seat in the middle of him and Callista. "Agree…"

"What? What happened?" Sheila was shuffling the cards accordingly in her hands.

Daphne's attention budged from her perfect nails to them, looking equally curious.

"Harry happened…" Regine revealed.

Daphne and Sheila exchanged knowing looks.

"What did he do now?" Sheila quipped lightheartedly.

"He threatened the Head Boy." Callista shed a glance at him. Harry was bored out of his mind, ears gone deaf to any of their conversations. His eyes fixed on the window, gazing indifference at the passing nature. The scenery outside became wilder and darker while the clouds above, thickened.

"What!" Sheila exclaimed, her grasp on the cards slackened, dropping all of them to the floor. "You're kidding, right? Why did he do that?"

"Who is the Head Boy?" was Daphne's mild question.

"Percy Weasel…" Callista's mood dampened at once. "I mean Percy Weasel… Oh for goodness sake, W-Weasley, I mean!"

Regine rubbed her friend's back in sympathetic gesture, added with a smile of hilarity. Her eyes, then, perched on her other two friends. "Weasel was abusing his position as the esteem Head Boy and trying to change the patrol's schedule. As you two have probably guess, he tried to put Callista's patrol together with him - quite a stubborn bloke, he is - and, that's where Harry intervened. He just ignored Weasel's order and rebuffed it offhandedly. When Weasel enforced it for the second time, that's when Harry literally snapped. He said that just because Weasel is the Head boy doesn't mean he'll abide to everything Weasel says. Harry said that the position of Head Boy can be stripped from anyone and can be appointed to another person with the agreement of three head houses or the headmaster alone, all in accordance to Hogwarts rules. Harry also said that if Weasel tries anymore of his foolish stunts in getting closer to Callista, Harry won't tolerate his behavior anymore, even if it means having his Prefect position being taken away from him. His subtle threats did work to everyone who was listening in and it did tune up Weasel's attitude."

"With mere threats?" Daphne was eyeing appraisingly at Harry. "I am impressed. I hexed Weasel countless times last year and he still didn't back down."

"This is no laughing matter, Daphne," Callista reproached her friend, eyes scanning Harry and perceived him napping peacefully, snoring softly. "It's the way Harry's tone when he said it. By way of just words, I doubt it's sufficient to scare the Weasel. It feels familiar seeing Harry like that. It's like he's-"

"-back to his old self…" Regine concluded, sharing worried looks with Callista.

"Now, that is not funny, you two," said Sheila solemnly. "I admit how much I missed his old self. Still, we do remember how he was like back then, right?"

"Cold, grouchy, prone to violence, not a very social person, much more aloof than I am, glaring at every person he met including us, pushing every person away, ejecting cold aura everywhere he went and most importantly, never put a smile on his face, just scowled a lot," Regine asserted, counting each with her fingers.

"I hardly blame Potter for that. He did not have the most pleasant childhood," said Daphne.

"Be real, Daph, it took a long time for him to change and for him open up to us. I know Harry had unlucky childhood, but I do not want him to revert back to his old self. I like him more the way he is right now no matter how much I missed his old self."

"I concur with Sheila. Remember, Harry completely transformed into a different person at the end of our fourth year and he didn't even start flirting until our third year," Callista soured up at recalling many of his flirt attempts. The girls apparently shared her sentiment, each grumbling at the memory.

"Hey, come' on, girls, this is Harry we're talking about." Regine smiled beautifully, lightening up the cabin. "No matter if he reverts back to his old self or not, he's still Harry. What's there to be scared of? I have complete faith in Harry."

Daphne smirked, announcing in theatrical way, "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what I'd like to call a true loyalty, a loyalty solely reserved for a true Hufflepuff. Everybody, applaud, if you please." All three girls took their cues by presenting a round of applause, combined with a whistle from Sheila.

"Oh, be quiet, you three." Regine's face was rapidly matching her scarlet hair. In order to lessen the blush on her face, she chose to tickle Callista whom was the closest to her. Callista squealed softly and ducked at her attempts, hastening towards to her two friends which led to Regine impishly hopping at all three of them. The girls' giggles and laughter rang out in the compartment as a contest of tickles broke out, each aiming to outdo one another and to expose who is the ticklish out of four of them.

"Girls, would you stop buzzing in excitement? I'm trying to get a shut eye here. I didn't get enough sleep last night," Harry groused groggily, shrouding his front body with his brown coat, using it as a blanket. They all shushed up at Harry's disgruntled voice, giggling noiselessly to themselves.

"Anyway… Daphne, how is Noah settling in?"

Apart from Daphne's little sister, Astoria, Regine's little brother, Noah, was also attending Hogwarts as a fellow first year. He was an awfully shy boy with small stature, thin body, an oval shaped cute face, white skin comparable to Regine's, and brown eyes unlike Regine's gold-yellow eyes. Astoria didn't resemble Daphne in the slightest and not splitting image of her older sister. Her silky hair took the color of raven, and whilst her hair was from her mother, she got her black eyes from her father's. She had petite form of body and porcelain skin, like her mother and sister.

She acknowledged her older sister is a lot more beautiful than her, bearing in mind that Daphne attained the best attractive attributes from their parents. From the time Astoria and Noah became acquaintances of each other last year, they had become pretty close. Taking into consideration of their same age and were always conversing together whenever the Greengrass' had one of their dinner gatherings with the girls' families, it was not much of a surprise. Unfortunately, Daphne wasn't very pleased on them being inseparable to each other.

"He's fine." Daphne scowled. "If he lays a finger on Tori, I swear I'll castrate him and skin him alive. I don't care if he's your little brother, Regine."

"Daphne!" Regine objected, moaning. "Noah won't hurt a fly, much less his first and closest friend!"

"As if I bother with such trifle information. Just wait and see! That boy will be dealt with and he will soon realize how frightening I can be. Not even Merlin himself can save him and stand up to my wrath." Daphne's eyes turned to glares. "I bet he has done something to Tori already! I should not have deserted them all by themselves! I knew the boy was not to be trusted in the first place! I was right all along! Don't stop me girls, I'm likely on my way to murder him!" Horrified, Regine had to lunge for Daphne, not liberating her from the compartment. "What are you doing, Regine? Release me this instant! Even if you are his sister, you will not stop me! You are only delaying me!"

Following a pleading look from Regine, Callista voiced out, "Daphne, don't leap to a nonsense conclusion like that. They're too young to do anything. You're being paranoid. Besides, your sister has an innocent crush on Harry and isn't showing any interest in Regine's little brother…yet… Moreover, Noah is a gentleman and very polite, so end this silly charade of yours." There was slightest of amusement underneath her tone.

"Yeah, Daph, he's cute and such a nice kid." Sheila was reduced in a heap of giggles. "You know something, Daph? I kinda like this side of yours! So protective of your sister and beneath that cold exterior of yours, who knew big bad Ice Princess could be a softy!"

"…I change my mind," Daphne declared after a few moments of silence. "The concept of killing Jonnet is too tempting now… I am afraid I cannot resist the benefit of it any longer and I did put it into consideration for some time now… I'll have to contemplate on covering up the body later on, so without further ado-" Daphne pounced for Sheila with a snarl.

The other two girls rushed to her.

Regine clutched her right arm. "Daphne, no!"

"Don't do it, Daphne!" Callista detained her other arm.

"Let go of me, you two! I'll slay her like a mongrel she is! Scourge her to dust with a flame of abyss! Exterminate her with the most deathliest poison I could create! Stuff her throat down with lots of her food, she will weigh tons! And, she will be plump for the rest of her miserable, wretched life!"

"You're just jealous of my awesome hot figure, since I'm way more athletic than you'll ever be! Just because you keep in shape by exercising every so often during the summers, doesn't mean you'll have a body like mine, Daphne!" To emphasize her point, Sheila was on her feet and proceeded in moving her hands over her body from up to down, waggling her eyebrows teasingly. Her action just vexed Daphne further.

In the end, Callista and Regine had to pin down their blond friend, to stop her from tearing Sheila into pieces. Sheila was roaring in laughter, relishing every second of it and inadvertently provoking Daphne at the same time. Their other two friends mentally marveled at this particular event. Didn't this occur back in Daphne's mansion? The only thing they can differentiate was their positions swapped, with Sheila unintentionally goading Daphne and Daphne was out for Sheila's blood. In spite of all the commotion, Harry was still in a deep slumber, a lazy smile shaping his lips.

* * *

><p>Yawning indolently, Harry ambled his way through the corridor of the train, with no direction in mind. The girls were as rowdy as ever back in the compartment and he was stretching the stiff muscles he gained from sleeping. He sighed under his breath. Now, feeling a bit hungry, he was searching for that nice dimpled lady with the food cart. He located her stopping at one of the many compartments, and upfront, there was a familiar person, Xi Li, who was browsing for food and chatting absentmindedly with the witch.<p>

Her short navy hair was cropped and messy. She had allowed her hair to be longer than it normally was, for it passed down just below her shoulders. Not yet in her school robes, the casual clothes she was in, hugged her lean figure nicely and her eyes were as midnight dark as ever. Harry couldn't help his eyes raking all over her body. As if sensing him, her body went rigid. Eyes pivoted to him, tints of red surfaced her cheeks.

"Hey, Li," Harry greeted warmly.

"P-Potter!"

Harry slanted his head to the side, amused. "Whenever I am close to you, you seemed to pick up a sense on me, even when your back was facing me. Is that some sort of a skill you developed, Li? Or, do you have some kind of special detector designed specifically for me?"

"You wish!" The pretty blush on her face escalated. "Don't get any wrong idea, Potter! You're just emitting an aura that's making me abhor you!"

"Really, or is that a denial I detect?" Harry arched an eyebrow, a cocky smile on his lips. "Is it really making you detest me? Or, is it the other way around?"

"What!" Her face was now a nice shade of crimson. "Y-you're full of yourself, Potter!"

A melodic chuckle poured out from Harry's throat. "It's nice to see you, Li. I would've thought you have gotten used to me teasing you by now, what with the letters we've been exchanging during the summer." He smiled sincerely at the Chinese girl.

"Whatever…" was her mumble response. "Um… Nice to see you too…"

"Ah, young love…" The cart lady sighed dreamily under her breath. Her voice was loud for the two of them. The two teens flushed and looked away from each other. Harry pretended to not heed the lady, purposely dispensing her words and didn't bother to rectify her. Xi discovered her feet to be fascinating at the moment, because of the uncontrollable hot blush on her face. "Is there anything you would like on the cart, dear?"

"Uh…yeah…" Harry cleared his throat, face still pinked. "I'm kind of hungry. I haven't eaten anything actually since breakfast."

"Understandable… I dropped by the compartment you're in earlier and found you were sleeping. You looked awfully tired."

Harry rubbed the scruff of his neck, laughing a little. "Yeah, I just didn't get adequate rest last night so I had to compensate for it…" He trailed off his words, as his head was assaulted by another round of wooziness. Grunting incoherently, he steadied himself by holding onto the cart from not falling to the ground. Arms looped around Harry's left arm, stabling him on his feet. Reflexively, his body leaned closer to the person.

"Hey, get a hold of yourself, Potter! Are you alright?" inquired Xi, very concerned for him.

The cart lady was also worried of his unexpected condition. Harry bowed his head down, for fear of them seeing his eyes glowing in pure gold. He tightly squeezed his eyes shut to get rid of the _Mystic Eyes_. All of the sudden, there was a sudden violent shake in the train, all of it quaking as if the whole place was struck by an earthquake. There were small screams here and there, but luckily, it only lasted for a few minutes.

"What the hell was that about?" Xi wondered out loud, pressing herself to Harry more. Heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments. Penelope Clearwater and Su Li, Xi's little sister, were also outside. "You two should go inside, it's probably nothing, just a passing earthquake, that's all. Go back inside." Xi ushered them with words, still latching herself onto Harry. Reassured, the two retreated back inside, followed by the rest of the students.

Panting, he held his head back up, coughing a bit. "Hey, Potter, are you alright? What's wrong?"

"You already asked me that question, Li." He detached his body from hers, disengaging their arms. "I'm fine…"

"No, you're not, look at yourself!"

"Huh?"

"Dear, your nose is bleeding!" said the cart lady.

"Oh?" Harry was about to wipe it with his hand, but Xi was faster than him. Digging out her handkerchief, she mopped it gently for him. "T-This is nothing…"

"It is not nothing, Potter! This is troubling…" Her worried tone was as clear as daylight to him.

Harry's right hand bind Xi's left wrist, hindering her from moping his blood anymore. "Look Li, I appreciate your concern. But like I said, this is really nothing. I just didn't get enough rest so it might be from exhaustion-" The words hardly left him as the train abruptly decelerated. "Eep!" Xi tripped at such suddenness, falling forward. Harry instinctively embraced Xi, his arms enfolded around her lean muscular body. Her hot face was buried in his chests and she came to a realization on how built Harry is. Her nose gulped in a whiff of his cologne and her face blushed more hotly.

Harry, however, wasn't paying any attention to her. He was having an ominous feeling at this point in time. The ominous feeling grew worsen. Harry felt his wand vibrating. In an instant, he understood the danger his wand was alerting. It was like the Chamber of Secrets all over again. "Both of you must get inside a compartment, now!"

"Potter, what-"

"Do not argue with me, Li, this is serious!" Seeing the grave expression, Xi shut up. She had never once confronted with a somber Harry Potter before. Harry steered the cart lady tenderly into the compartment. "Ma'am, you as well. I insist on you all staying in the compartment until it is safe." Xi wanted to protest. "As of right now, I'm performing my duty as a Prefect, so get your cute little arse inside, now!" He practically shoved her inside her compartment and ordered the occupants, "Lock this door and I mean not in a second-year spell, but in a really advanced spell!"

Harry slammed the door close with a thud. At students exiting the compartment, Harry growled in aggravation for them not grasping the gravity of the situation. Harry scurried his legs forward, thrusting his wand to his throat, whispering _Sonorus _to himself. "This is Harry Potter, a sixth year Prefect! I advise everyone to return back into their compartment, immediately! Lock it with a spell! Anyone disobeying me will get a week detention with Mr. Filch and twenty points deducted from their own houses! I'm not kidding around! Now, get inside! Lock the door while you're at it!" As a result of his professional hard tone, many students did as they were told. Cancelling the spell, he strolled the corridor with quick steps, harshly instructing those who were still outside to go back inside their own compartment. A few steps ahead, his brother was out of his compartment, along with a few lower years, presumably his friends.

"Harry, I heard your voice! What's going on?"

"If you have heard my voice, then you would have stayed in your compartment like I told you to! All of you inside, now!" he roared irately. The few of them scrambled back inside. Pushing his brother into his cabin, he poked his head inside. "If I find any of you still skulking outside, detention for a month, am I clear?" They nodded their heads quickly. There was a man, Remus Lupin, fast asleep next to the window. Harry refrained himself from asking why the man was here. He shook his head. "Hermione, lock the door with an advanced spell, not a spell that can be break easily by '_Alohomora_', understand?"

He didn't wait for a response and simply slid the door close. He walked hastily, scouting for students who were out of their compartment. He found a few. He had to force Malfoy and his bodyguards to enter a compartment that belonged to the Weasley twins and their friend, Lee Jordan. He gave all six of them a loud firm yell to not go outside till it was secure and was dourly pleased to see them acting upon his orders, albeit with shaky nods. His stern posture was worthy of Professor McGonagall's when she was very angry.

The train came to a halt with a jolt.

"Tch…" Harry clicked his tongue.

He had a very bad feeling at this. Then, without a warning, the lights went out and everyone in the train was plunged to a total darkness. Harry stiffened in attention. Something was boarding the train and there was some sort of intense cold aura conquering the whole train. A chill stabbed Harry's heart. He swallowed the lump of his throat and beads of sweat formed his forehead. His senses were tingling in warning. In his trouser's pocket, his wand was vibrating more vigorously. There was a long low rattle growl behind him.

Hands formed to a tight fist, Harry made the mistake of wheeling his body around. His worst fear has been confirmed. It was a figure towering to the ceiling, donning a black creepy looking cloak and its face hidden under the cloak. The creature beneath the cloak was indisputably a Dementor. Harry studied every aspect of the creature, with each passing time validating it to have a structure of a human. He faced it more properly this time, taking a defensive stance. Harry took a step backward, hearing its growl, almost sounded angry.

That's when Harry noticed the Dementor in front of him was acting very peculiar. Soaring in the air, it looked at him with its head inclined to the side. Harry's eyes widened dramatically when he realized he was being scrutinized scrupulously by the Dementor. What is he doing? He should run, but he couldn't… It's not that he couldn't, it's just that he can't. His feet weren't responding to him, motionless on the spot. He felt cold sweat on his face. The growl from the Dementor was getting louder and louder by the minute. Harry watched in fascination as its slimy rotting hands raised and lowered its hood.

It opened its mouth, a shaping hole, sucking the air with the sound of a death rattle. Harry was expecting for it to suck his soul, but what he didn't anticipated was a very loud wail, shrieking so deafeningly that the glass around them splintered into pieces. Harry clamped both of his hands to two of his ears to block the loud piercing sound. There were fearful screams from the students, from the first years up to the seventh years. It's understandable considering a Dementor never acted in such a way before.

_If you do encounter them… then run, run as far away as your legs can…_

That was enough for him to snap and sprinted away from it. Nevertheless, within the train, there were no places to go, except for the compartments or at the very end of the train and that's where Harry thought of heading. His first priority was to get it far away from the people. The Dementor was hounding for him, not the innocent people in the train, so he didn't have any desire to get the people involved. If the people in the train were terrified, Harry was more than afraid of the Dementor. It was going to come after him and chances, it will suck his soul out of his body.

He skidded to a stop and leaned forward to one of the long window, peering out. The window was without glass and bits of the rain contacted his skin, wind rushed towards him. That wasn't his concern, it's the horrifying scene outside. "My god…" There were hundreds of those things, gliding across the sky, accompanied with distant creepy shrieks from them. They were moving from every direction, encircling the train completely, obstructing Harry from parting the train. The screech from the Dementor earlier was not for nothing, it was intended for calling more of its kind.

Squinting with his eyes, Harry perceived one Dementor in the distance that appeared to be outrageously dissimilar, unlike the rest of them. Save for its typical appearance of a Dementor, it was the color of the cloak that was different. It was colored white and above it, there was ominous clouds tagging along. It was in the center of hundred of Dementors. Now, Harry was no expert, but there was a distinct possibility that was the Dementor the old man was searching for. Worst still, it was approaching the train, turning up for Harry, or it felt threatened by Harry's existence because of the _thing _inside Harry.

"Damn…" he cursed, his body quailing.

_An innocent town was piled up with hundreds of bodies with no soul in it, men, women, children and even very young toddlers…_

Just by the sight of the white Dementor was making him feel hopeless. Its hand protruded from its cloak, it was as if its hand was reaching out for Harry. Even with such simple gesture, it was still a very disturbing sight for Harry. Sensing potential assailants nearby, Harry's eyes darted to it. He backed away from the four Dementors approaching him, with lurching steps. If only he knew how to cast Patronus charm. It's the only thing that was known how to counter these things. His only option was to run. He turned around to escape when a pair of strong clammy hands attached themselves around Harry's neck. Harry gasped, chocking, automatically his hands gripped the cold sticky hands. He was, then, smashed into the window mercilessly, shattering the glass.

The four Dementors proceeded in creeping up to him, enclosing in on him from behind the Dementor who was throttling him. Harry's upper body was jutting out of the train and his back bleed from the broken glass prodding his skin. He was suffocating and not just by getting strangle by some humanoid creature, but also from the effects the Dementors were stimulating on him. He felt his own breath catch in his chest at the intense cold. The cold was tunneling deeper into his skin. Many memories were flashing inside his head and not single one of those memories was the happy ones.

When it suddenly came to a particular memory…

_...You are ours… You will join us and will become ours…_

He snapped his eyes to fully open, feeling rage swept over him, eyes were glowing gold in color. "Don't underestimate me, you pathetic excuse of a being!"

With pure magic Harry desperately scraped from deep inside him, gold magic erupted from his body. The Dementors didn't have any chance to dodge it. Harry blasted all of them out of the train, resulting in an explosion to occur in the train. Fortunately, there were no compartments, any other important possessions, or people in front of Harry as a huge section of the train went missing. The screams from the students amplified at the sudden violent shake of the explosion. This time, every occupant took Harry's words more seriously, barricading themselves in each compartment they're in.

Eyes switched back to emeralds, he sunk to his knees and crouched on all fours, gasping for air. There was a horrible twinge in the pit of his stomach. Feeling painful importunate prick on his heart and something was rising up from inside him, Harry vomited the contents of his stomach. Blood blotched on the floor.

That magic wasn't his at all. It was something more powerful and strong that do not originated from the present world. He couldn't believe the memory of 'the Ancients' was the one that pressured him to drag out such powerful magic within him. He had never drawn such magic before in his life and it had taken a toll out of his body. Using _Telekinesis_, he removed the sharp glass from his back. He hissed in pain when he did that, hands tightening into fists. The pain was nothing in comparison to the injuries he acquired back in the Chamber of Secrets, inflicted by Slytherin's pet, yet it was still unbearable as hell.

"Harry! Harry!" The urgent voice was from Remus, finding Harry in a bloody mess. "You're hurt…"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Harry snarled sharply through the pain he's in. "You should have remained with the rest of the students!"

"Whether you like it or not, you need my help! This is not the time to quarrel over the past, let's put it behind us for now-"

"This is something far beyond your comprehension!" Harry countered heatedly, glaring him.

"I know how to cast the Patronus, so I know how to counter them! And, I'm the adult here, so I should be the one protecting you all, not you!"

"Fine, then how would you consider on dealing that?" Harry nudged behind him in a violent gesture. Remus's breath hitched, face ashen white, blanched. "Your Patronus may work on normal Dementors, but not the one on the center!"

Remus' eyes glued onto the white Dementor. "I-Is that a-a Dementor?"

Harry neglected the idiotic question. "Damn, we need the old man if we're going to survive this…"

"That's right, we need Dumbledore-"

Harry wheezed out a dry laughter at this, now sitting on the floor.

"Professor Dumbledore? There is no way he could contain that vast of army, much less drive them away… You see that-" Harry pointed his finger at the white Dementor, coughing. "That is a being very different than your average Dementor, a being that is out of this world, a being that exist in time of Merlin, a being that no present magic could hope to defeat, a being you may as well regard it as one of the many ancient mysteries of the world that has been lay sleeping for so many years… A being that put Voldemort and the Headmaster in the category of an ant…"

"How do you know of this…?" Remus asked in unmistaken astonishment.

Eyes widening further, he was finally aware of the huge hole in front of them, undoubtedly caused by Harry.

"Why is the old man not here yet?" Harry said more to himself, now discounting Remus was even there with him. Harry winced at the several gashes behind him, carefully propping his bloody rear of body against the wall near him. "What the-"

The floor he seated on, had been covered with ice and around him, everything was freezing to iciness. He examined his hand at a very close range, feeling the ice soaking his skin and he could now see his warm breath. It felt as if winter had just arrived in such abruptness manner. His body was now quivering, on account of the coldness. He's not the only one. Remus was in similar state as him, shivering. He looked over his shoulder, discerning the white Dementor was closing in on them. Then, there was a thud, denoting a person had fallen to the floor. There was no uncertainty as to who the person was.

"Hey, get up!" Harry roughly smacked Remus's head. "I don't have time to babysit you! You need to get the people out of here while I distract them!"

"Just leave him be, child, and do not worry. I have placed every person in this train into a deep sleep." Harry's fear alleviated considerately at the familiar tone.

Merlin materialized in front of him and was stooping down to Harry's level. "Where were you, old man? We're in a dire situation here!"

"Yes, I can tell that. I was unable to sense you, for the reason of _him _blocking every of my senses."

"Can the white Dementor do that?" Harry asked weakly.

"It would appear he still retrained some of his superior magical skills. He must have set up a boundary field all around him to hide himself from my magical senses, which explains a lot as to why I could not track him all these years. The sole purpose as to why I am here, is caused by you discharging a lot of magical energy and with such large amount, they were lured to it…"

"I didn't mean to set off an earthquake, it'd just happened…" His breath became ragged now. "As of late, I couldn't control the magic inside me. It's influencing me and my emotions, old man… I'm starting to wonder if the magic inside me belongs to me at all… It's like I have another magic, different from mine… I didn't want you to worry of me, so I kept it to myself, thinking it'd be best for me to solve this _mystery _by myself…"

"Oh, Harry…If only I could shoulder the burden you are in…" The old man cleaned the blood from Harry's mouth with a conjured handkerchief. "Skip!" The holy elemental emerged majestically at the summons of his master. "Attend to Harry's injuries and any injuries you can uncover from the people in the train. I will handle those traitors. I will repel them away from here. This is neither the time nor the place to fight their leader. Innocent people will caught up in the crossfire and I am afraid I cannot allow such thing to happen… For the time being, I will tolerate his existence…"

Skip flew to Harry and hundreds of small holy rays attached to his body, nursing him back to health. Harry, though, was more captivated with Merlin's stance. His mentor, with his eyes sealed, commenced in muttering an incantation in a tongue Harry did not recognize. Below Merlin's feet, a circle was drawn by itself, lines tracing to wholly perfect the circle and it engraved onto the floor. It was glimmering in white as the incantation from Merlin's tone grew louder.

"Magic circle…" Harry breathed, looking in absolute delight and awe.

Finishing the incantation, the pressure of magic was denser than the first time the spell was being invoked. A dazzling light pierced the sky, as if heaven was brought down to earth. Harry strained his eyes to look up at the sky. It was like a gigantic _Lumos_ radiating the whole area and the effect it generated was overwhelming. Unconsciously, a smile worked its way across his lips and warmth spread all over his body. It was a spectacular sight. The light, itself, was like a sun purging the darkness.

"Old man, you have got to teach me that…"

The anguish screams from the Dementors resonated all over the place and they fled as far away as possible from the grand light. One, however, lingered for a while longer… It was pointing its slimy finger threateningly at both of them, before it too vanished from the plain sight. Shiver ran down Harry's spine. He felt as if he was being marked for death. The light above the sky gradually diminished until rain took over again and dark clouds, once more, ruled the sky. The ice that was developed by the presence of the white Dementor had melted way.

"With that large scale of magic, I just hope no one saw that…"

"Of course not, Harry, we are in isolated region. I am confident not a single soul was aware of the holy light. I am also certain those beasts will not tell anyone as they do not even remember human languages. They spoke in a tongue that only their kinds could comprehend, not people like us. So, for now, the secrets remain safe…"

"Holy light, huh?" Smile still etched his lips. "You mean, that was a holy type magic… Amazing…"

"Indeed…" Merlin offered Harry a wide smile. "Now, let us sort things here. I will have to alter people's memories, including the man here, as well as repair the damages so not to arouse unwanted suspicious and attention. You go along with Skip and ensure every life on this train, are not in mortal danger."

"Will do, old man. I need to check up on the girls anyway." Harry ran after the elemental, trailing behind it.

* * *

><p>Harry walked leisurely, each compartment he passed, every person was fast asleep. Presently, he was looking for the old man, wondering where he was. He could distinguished every glass that was shattered was restored back. The destruction he did formerly at the end of the train on one of the huge section had been patched up by Merlin and looking around, the train was back to how it normally was. It was as if the fight never transpired at all. Rose bloomed his cheeks after checking in on the girls. He shook his head to minimize the blush on his face. Now, at the very front of the train, Harry inserted himself to what it looked to be a room where the conductor spent most of his time in the train. The many buttons and levers were to be expected in the engine room. A snore from the man with round belly, showed the driver was fast asleep too.<p>

The old man was there, peering interestingly at different kinds of lever. "What are you doing here, old man? Have you done modifying their memories?"

Merlin waved Harry off. "Yes, yes, it was a child's play for me to adjust the people's memories in the train." Merlin rotated his body around. "Oh my, what happened to you, Harry? Your face is all red." Merlin sent him a knowing look. "What did you do now, child?" His tone was humorous and puckish.

Harry's blush deepened further at the insinuation. He thought he rid of the blush prior to meeting the old man, apparently, he was wrong.

Merlin had to strain his ear to hear what Harry was saying. "What was that, child? I could not quite grasp it."

"I said!" Harry began exasperatingly, face smoldering red. "I-I checked up on the girls while they're in the process of changing their clothes…"

"Oh my…" Merlin's smile broadened. "So, they are…"

"No! They're not naked or in knickers!" Harry protested embarrassingly, cursing his hormones for kicking in. "They're already in their school robes. It's just they haven't properly in their school uniform and had fallen asleep before putting their ties, their school blazers and robes… They haven't even button their shirts so…" He didn't dare to finish his sentence as his cheeks were reddening more and more.

"Oh, so you had seen them in their bras, is that it?" That served more red on Harry's face. "Do you not discover them to be attractive, Harry?"

"That's not true!" Harry said this angrily. "They're very beautiful and we both know that!" His blurt instigated the blush on his face to not receded anytime soon. Merlin was chuckling spiritedly, savoring the moment of teasing his pupil. Harry glowered at his mentor for toying him. "Why are we having this conversation anyway? Shouldn't we be focusing on the dilemma we had just luckily escaped with our souls intact?"

"Yes, yes, I suppose you are right, Harry…" The look on Merlin's face told Harry, the old man was serious.

"…They're now after me, aren't they?" The silence from the ancient man was sufficient for Harry to corroborate the answer to his question.

"Harry… Truthfully, your ancestor was the one responsible for Arthur cursing-"

"Save it." Harry sighed, raking his hand through his silky raven hair. "I had enough excitement for one day. Tell me all about it till the next time we meet again. For now, I just want to conceal my presence from those Dementors. They won't leave me in peace. As to how to do that, I don't know."

That's where in split seconds and without warning, Merlin swooped and with his pointed finger, he speedily sketched some kind of rune and planted it onto Harry's chest, where the heart would be. "Ouch!" Feeling something burning, Harry lifted his shirt up and discovered a weird looking ancient rune engraved on the left side of his chest. The rune was slightly glowing in white.

"What is that?"

"That is a sealing rune to suppress your magic from spouting out. That rune will assist you in controlling the magic inside. I have been preparing that rune before I arrived here." Harry felt more lighthearted than his former condition and his head cleared away the stress, but still, Harry didn't think it would be that simple. "Your assumptions is correct, Harry. This rune will not do much, it will only help you just the tiniest bit. The rune will not last long and soon you will consume every last bit of magical energy in the rune. However, you do not need to be concern, Harry, as I will prepare you with something much better than this one. Just give me adequate time to come up with brilliant ideas."

"Thanks, old man. I appreciate it a lot. I feel slightly better now than my previous condition."

"I am glad I could be of help to you, Harry…" Merlin, then, clapped his hands, eyes shimmering excitedly. "Now then, with all the excitement and serious discussions away for now, I can return back to what I planned to do earlier on. There is something I have been meaning to do all my life."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at Merlin's sudden change of attitude. "Old man, what are you doing?"

In accordance to Harry's query, Merlin hauled down one of the cords and a loud whistle blew from the chimney of Hogwart's train.

"You're acting childish, old man…"

Skip popped out of nowhere, producing thrilling enthusiastic sounds. "Oh, do you wish to try it as well, Skip? Go ahead then."

A single light ray disconnected from the holy elemental and it was, then, attached onto the cord. The cord, itself, was pulled down, and the loud whistle blew for the second time. Harry just watched them through half-lidded eyes and deadpanned expression. "You two are acting very childish now…"

"Come now, child, do not tell me you are contradicting with your desire on wanting to do it all your life. Just give in the urge, Harry."

Harry didn't respond as he merely extended his hand forward, reaching out for the cord and pulled it down. When the third whistle blew much longer than the other two, a silly grin cracked Harry's lips. "Hey, old man… do you think we can keep this train in your mansion?"


	21. Chapter 20, Season 3

**Chapter 20.  
><strong>

**1 September 1993.**

The Great Hall was in its customary grand self, decorated in its splendor adornments for the welcoming feast.

Harry had his eyes glued to the golden plate in front of him, hardly noticing any of his surroundings. With his head set on the palm of his right hand, he dozed to space, thoughts drifting afar. The shouts from the Sorting Hat, the applause, and even the whispers of the students were far from his mind. Only a gentle prod to his elbow did his daydream came to a closing stage.

"Noah is about to be sorted, Harry," disclosed Callista. "It is in your- I mean our best interests to know what house he's going to be in."

"Um, right…thanks…" Forehead creased and eyes roosted on a particular brown-haired boy, a scowl sketched Harry's face. "Oh, who am I kidding?" Harry said, unkindly. "Who gives a thought on what the runt is going to house in? It's not in my best interest to recognize anything concerning him." A well-practiced, painful pinch was immediately sent to his left arm. "Ouch!"

"Oh, don't be such a baby, Harry. There are more painful experiences in this world than a mere pinch from a teenage girl like me," Callista declared, a small smile gracing her lips. "What is more, if Regine was to hear what you had just said, you can be certain she'd be mad at you for patronizing her brother like that."

"Barberis, Noah," said McGonagall, breaking them out of their disagreement.

With blush adoring his cute oval shaped face, the anxiety shone in his shy brown eyes, his small stature - possibly the smallest out of his year, his elegant brown hair unlike the Potter's bird unkempt nest hair, and his very tidy appearance that earned McGonagall's approval, Noah Barberis stepped out of the line and he literally climbed up to the stool. At that, Harry didn't oppose to the snickers expelling out his throat wherein it led to another series of pinch from the girl seated on his left side. In response to it, Harry complained in his standard 'Ouch!' at his so-called injury.

Seven minutes gone, and the hat had yet to cry out what house. Another minute, Harry rotated his head around to find Regine grew worry of her brother. After another eight minutes flew by, then the Sorting Hat shouted out, "HUFFLEPUFF!" Noah hastily pulled the hat off as if terrified the hat would change its mind and he scurried to join his big sister at the Hufflepuff table, whom was cheering for him. Harry wasn't stunned the runt was in Hufflepuff, no, it was the fact of how long he was to be sorted, almost as long as Harry and his own brother, Daniel.

"Not much of surprise there," remarked Harry, eyes locked onto Regine hugging her red face brother. "Secretly, I was hoping for him to be in Slytherin and have Daphne torture him from the inside. She never likes Regine's brother anyway, for the minor reason of being so close to her little sister. Daphne never fails to have this sudden crazy thought of him plotting to take advantage of Astoria."

"Daphne is being silly and you know it, Harry," smiled Callista. "It's strange, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"That Regine's younger brothers prefer to confess her any problems they're dealing with, instead of their own parents…I don't think Regine's brothers would ever want to be separate from their sister if they were given a choice."

"It shows how good she is with children…" Harry smiled fondly. "I kind of envy the close relationship she has with her siblings. Sometimes, I wish mine was as perfect as hers…"

Callista opted not to comment at that, merely burying his words to her heart.

"Greengrass, Astoria!"

Harry reflected how peculiar it was that Astoria didn't bear any resemblance to her sister, nor was she a carbon copy of a miniature Daphne. With her black silk hair like her mother's, the blue eyes from her father, her slender body and porcelain skin comparable to Daphne's, the girl extracted herself from the line of first years. She carried herself with an air of confidence, elegance, and dare Harry say it, a touch of arrogance. She was the true poster child for pureblood princesses from aristocratic families.

There and then, every bit of the girl reminded Harry vividly of Daphne, though the older girl admittedly flaunted more of the haughtiness.

What blew Harry off his rocker was when the hat exclaimed, "HUFFLEPUFF!" Silence greeted the girl's sorting as a few claps resonated within the hall. Indisputably, it was without doubt everyone expected the younger Greengrass to be in Slytherin. Astoria didn't fret on how the people reacted to her sorting. She cutely wrinkled her nose in distaste of the old Sorting hat. Flinging her silky black hair over her shoulder - Harry noted another habit from Daphne -, she strode gracefully to the Hufflepuff table, crumpling in a seat next to Noah with a heavy relief sigh.

To Harry's joy and a quirk of a smile, she excitedly chattered away, unmistakably happy to be with her friend, rather than in Slytherin house with her sister. Noah tried his very best in keeping up her speedy conversation, all the while nodding his head rapidly, yet at the same time shaking his head. Harry tilted his own in mild skepticism at the boy's movement. He didn't think it's feasible for anyone to be able to do that.

"I cannot imagine for one second that Astoria would be in Hufflepuff. Slytherin, or possibly Ravenclaw, but not Hufflepuff…" gasped Callista softly. "It had, in fact, never passed my mind at the thought of Astoria in Hufflepuff or even Gryffindor. This is, well… astonishing!"

"This verifies that not everything is what we think, or what we predict it will be. A person's choice or life does not rest in someone's hands. Perhaps, influenced by the people hovering around the individual, but never chosen for the person. In the end, it all comes down to the fact of whether the person will choose this or that, and in that instant, it is where the person's life forges an unforeseeable path for him or her…" An unconscious broad smile crept up Callista's lips. It was one of those occasional times why Callista kept reverting to her thoughts in being awe of whether the true reason of Harry's presence in Ravenclaw was on account of his way on supplying wise words in such appropriate timings.

Harry had his attention elsewhere. He discerned his gorgeous blond friend to be in shock, mouth agape a little bit, and a strand of her hair dangled loosely over her face. "For the very least, we get to see Daphne so astounded - speechless too. It's rare we get to see such reactions from her."

Callista perked at this and allowed her eyes to wander to the Slytherin table. Sensing two pair of eyes on her, flippantly ribbing on her, Daphne shook her head, her shiny blond hair dancing lightly around her face. She awarded them with the fiercest and meanest glare she could accumulate. Harry was impervious to her cold mesmerizing light green eyes, smiling in a way of merriment. Nevertheless, Callista had to look the other way, chuckling ever so slightly.

"I hope Sheila doesn't get to see Daphne in such state, Harry, if not- and I speak too soon."

By the Gryffindor table, Sheila had indeed caught the sight of Daphne and once she captured Daphne's attention, she poorly imitated Daphne's earlier action, together with her jaw dramatically dropping. Grasping the meaning behind it, Daphne's face burned red in anger and contented in glowering the girl from afar, abstaining herself from going over to the Gryffindor table and whack the perky girl.

Finally, the last name was called out, signifying the end of the sorting. Professor Flitwick, a tiny wizard and the head of Ravenclaw, levitated the three-legged stool and the old hat out of the hall. As the headmaster rose to his feet, beaming at the students, all noises fizzled out. Professor Dumbledore delivered a welcoming speech for the old students and accepted the new students warmly. When the ancient wizard touched on the topic of the Dementors, many if not most, shed a fleeting look at Harry, and a few eyes lingered on him.

This left Harry considerably perplexed. "Did I miss something?"

"I'm amazed you couldn't fathom it out yourself, Harry." Callista flashed him a surprise look. "To sum everything up, many people were grateful of you for commanding them to barricade themselves in each of the compartments they were in, albeit advising in a very harsh way."

"Come again?"

"You heard her, Potter, your quick action and thinking earned most of their gratitude and maybe their respect as well," Xi Li, clad in a similar uniform as the two, butted in from Harry's right side. "If I have to guess, you're the type of a person who doesn't like the idea of innocent people getting hurt and you'll do something about it without asking something in return, am I right?"

"And, where did you come from, Li? Don't just pop out of nowhere and everywhere at the same time…"

"Oh, did I surprise you, Potter?"

"In your dreams, Li." Harry scoffed. "Have you been snooping in on us?"

Xi flushed deep red. "Excuse me, Callista is also my close friend as well, therefore I'm not going to eavesdrop in something that is very private to her."

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Which means you heard everything…"

The red on her face intensified. "I-It-t can't be help, Potter! I just heard bits here and there, nothing more. No need to get cross. I'm right beside you when you were talking to Callista, so it isn't my fault I caught most of your discussions! It's not like it was intentional or anything…"

Harry's half lidded eyes bore to hers. "Yeah right, like I believe you. I'd even wager you were leaning closer to me, just to hear what we were talking about." Xi's face, if possible, heated more. To some extent, Harry was accurate on his part of Xi sidling closer to him, but it was not to eavesdrop on them. It was for a much more important and a very different reason like how much he had grown, or the sweet smell of his cologne. And, did she mention he's more handsome than the last time she bumped into him?

"That's enough, Harry." Callista situated her right hand on his left hand, thumb soothingly tracing circles. "Xi is right anyway. Many students now hold you in high esteem."

"Um…" Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. "There were no explosions and no freezing to ice, right? And, there was no enormous light in the sky blinding everyone, right?"

Callista and Xi stared him, nonplussed.

"Harry, I understand you have a wide variation of wonderful imagination, but I can assure you, none of those ever transpired back in the train." Callista smiled, squeezing his hand. "How about we all return to the headmaster's speech?"

The headmaster recommenced his oration, cautioning the students not to go anywhere near the Dementors. Harry gladly assented to the statement. As Professor Dumbledore stirred his speech to the part of two new professors joining them all, including Remus Lupin, who would be filling the post of Defense Against Dark Arts, Harry had to snort at that. "Well, I'm glad I'm not taking the Defense class then."

"What?" Xi squeaked, amidst at the lukewarm applause. "You're not going to sit in the Defense class, Potter? Why?"

Callista did not say anything. She clapped politely for the shabby looking man. She understood Lupin had nothing to do with Harry not taking the class. No, it was more of him fancy attending another class. By the summer, he had sign up for four core subjects, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms and Potions. Following five years of self-study worth in DADA, Harry promptly elected Ancient Runes instead. The girls accepted his reasons, convinced he didn't need the Defense classes, as Harry was proficient in defending himself from anything.

They understood, without him divulging it to them, that he was studying Defense from someone who has a lot of experience in fighting. They have _this _anomalous feeling of assurance that Harry was learning extensively from someone. Whoever the person is, they had no clue. Harry stashed his deepest secret somewhat close to his chest. They knew if him not telling them anything about it, he may have promised not to expose any of it to anyone. If the girls knew one main thing about Harry, it is that he lived by the creed of not shattering the promises he affirmed in the past or in the present.

"Everyone thinks DADA is an obligatory subject, Li, when in truth it's not. I have already decided on five subjects, so I don't fancy burdening myself in dealing with more classes. Though, I did manage to persuade both McGonagall and Flitwick into allowing me to take the NEWTs exam for DADA without attending the bloody class. That way, I have more free time to myself, not expending most of my time in stressing and doing lots of homework. Not everybody is the smartest witch of their age like Callista anyway." Harry nudged his thumb to Callista. "I can't imagine the notion of her having complications in finishing up any assignments that were given to her."

Callista underwent a rush of blood to both of her cheeks. "Oh, then how come you beat me in every exam, Harry? Care to indulge us the logical reason behind it?" she said this as sweetly as possible, throwing a look in his direction as if to dare him say appalling things to her.

"We both know the answer to that, Callista." Harry smiled genuinely, his voice was soft. "As intelligent as you are, you aren't that good when it comes to practical. If it not for our constant practice, you wouldn't be so excellent in practical. Besides, didn't you already beat me in OWLs? You got all Outstanding in every subject, except for Muggle Studies and Divination which you refused to take, asserting the two classes to be ludicrous and a waste of time."

Face beet red, Callista looked in the opposite way of Harry's appealing smile. Every so often, it was tough to resist her male friend if he was in his alluring moments. Yes, he can be very childish at times, yet he can be so charming as well. Callista couldn't blame him. He had been locking his childish side for so long, and it just burst in occasionally times he was around the girls. They didn't mind though. They, in fact, found him to be endearing that way. No one is impeccable after all.

"So, you're the only one who is not going to attend the Defense class then?"

"I didn't know you can be brainless at times, Li." His tone was gone back to flat. "Looks like I have been wasting my breath conversing with you. So my reply to your pathetic question, yes, I'm the only student. Mind telling me how you're in Ravenclaw again?"

Just as Xi about to retort angrily, Dumbledore resumed his speech. He informed all students of the retirement of Professor Care of Magical Creatures and the person who substituted him was none other than Hagrid. Harry and Callista gazed at one another, stunned by the revelation. They partook in the riotous applause for the gatekeeper. Harry fondly noted Regine was elated, no doubt the girl's mind was swirling at the prospect of meeting new dangerous creatures.

"Hagrid is many things, but I don't consider teaching to be one of his major fortes."

"So very true," said Callista. "Fortunately, none of us are taking the class for our sixth and seventh year."

"Ah, but you forget, Regine is and surprisingly, Daphne as well."

"Yes, astounding for a person of her character." Callista emitted a few chuckles. "Daphne really is a good friend, isn't she, Harry? First, for not seizing the opportunity of becoming a prefect, all undeniably for Sheila and now, sitting in a class she most probably abhors out of all the classes she's in, not counting Divination. It's all for not having a desire to leave Regine by herself."

"Hmph, not what you imagine from a Slytherin."

"True, Harry, so true…"

With the announcement was all said and done, it was the start of the feast. The golden plates and goblets suddenly filled with lots of food and different kind of drinks. Harry, feeling ravenous, helped himself with everything his hands could reach out, filling his own plate with delicious meals. Famished herself, Callista adopted more of steady approach. She sliced a small portion of chocolate cake for her and a large portion for her male friend. Once the feast wrapped up, the headmaster bid all students goodnight as they retired to their own dormitory.

* * *

><p><strong>2 September 1993.<strong>

"Back, you Hippogriff! Back, I tell you!" Daphne snarled, pointing her wand threateningly at the Hippogriff. "I have a wand and I am not afraid to use it! I can poke your eyes with it! It's not sharp, however, it can still be painful!"

Harry cocked an eyebrow, marveling if Daphne had momentarily lost her memories on the value and the usefulness of wands. As far as Harry could tell, wands were not intended to poke eyes. It was far from it. Nevertheless, he couldn't contradict her logic on how agonizing it would be if you spear a wand into the eyes of your enemies.

Sheila, whom was cowering behind her, was cheering her on, "Yeah, you show the bird, girl! Or, is it a horse? In any case, just lose those cute fluffy feathers if it tries anything! That will teach it not to mess with us."

Daphne trapped the Gryffindor girl in an empty stare. "You seriously have some issues with beautiful long and fluffy stuff, don't you, Jonnet?"

"I can't stand it, alright? Your long straight hair is more beautiful than mine and look at this- look at this-" Sheila raked her hands through her own short sophisticated black hair. "-it's so short compared to yours! And Regine's hair is so beautiful and long too! Ugh, I hate and sick of it! Even Callista's hair is longer than mine and she's the most attractive girl in Ravenclaw. Make no mistake, all the girls there are pretty. They didn't get to be in the Ravenclaw just cause they have brains. Have you even seen the Ravenclaws lately, Daph?"

"So you're saying the object of your resentment this whole time, is my hair? Can't say I blame you, can I now, Jonnet? Considering it's my hair we're talking about." Daphne conceitedly flipped her straight lustrous blond hair and it glimmered under the glaring light of the sun. "It's difficult not to be envious of my hair and never forget my stunning looks. Not to undermine my friends or anything, it's just cannot be refuted by the valid fact that I'm the most beautiful in Hogwarts. Not a single person can rival my beauty."

"Sweet Merlin, you have such a big ego, Daph."

"I have no such thing!" Daphne discarded her condescending act. "Do not coerce me to direct the target of my wand onto you, Jonnet! I can gouge your eyes with it! I swear to Merlin, it would not be so painless…"

"Ack! It's moving! Hex to kill, Daph, hex to kill!"

The Hippogriff was wriggling itself for a more comfortable resting position, ruffling its feathers.

"Sheila, don't encourage her and Daphne, you need to stop this silliness of yours! He's not doing anything! He's only lying there, resting! And wands are not meant to stab anything nor anyone's eyes for that matter, it's an object or a medium to call upon our magic!" Regine fiercely expressed her disapproval. Both of her friends fixed her with a blank stiff look, before recommencing their previous impractical behavior.

Callista laid a calming touch on Regine's shoulder. "It's no use, Regine. Once they are like this, nothing we say will change them. It is understandable. After all, they felt threaten by the presence of the Hippogriff and judged the best way to combat such situation is to take extreme measures, which is why I'm behind you. You don't mind me exploiting you as a shield, do you, Regine? I mean, it is what best friends are for, right?" she said innocently.

"Callista, not you too," Regine moaned, looking crestfallen. "Don't apply your brains into something like that and if you're going to make some lame excuse, then don't do it with so overly innocent expression, it will only generate you more of a suspicious character!" Callista was not listening, seeing as she was more fascinated in projecting her silent urge onto Daphne's intent on slaughtering the creature. In each second, Daphne was edging closer and closer to the Hippogriff.

Harry shook his head, weary sigh escaped his lips. "Alright, that's enough, girls… and yes, you too, Regine. If any of you haven't yet noticed, we're still far away from the bloody Hippogriff… We're not even in the pumpkin patch yet and there's no need to hype up over nothing, the Hippogriff is manacled. See that thick leather collar around its neck? Yeah, it's attached to a long metal chain."

Each of their cheeks bloomed rosy. "Oh…" They all can see the truth in his proclamation.

It was now close to midday, and lunch was about to be served in the Great Hall. Prior to lunch, they all had free time and Regine had come to the decision to drop in on Hagrid's hut, resolved to see how the big fella was doing. As if a routine, the four teenagers prompted to accompany their Hufflepuff friend and that's where they stumbled upon an uncanny creature, hindering them from going into Hagrid's hut. Sixth years as knowledgeable as them immediately identified it to be a Hippogriff and they all concurred that the Hippogriff is not one to be trifled with so carelessly.

Out of the blue, the door to Hagrid's hut banged open, revealing the owner of the house.

"Alrigh', yeh five?" They waved at him. "Wha' yeh all doin' over there? Cme down an' mee' Buckbeak the Hippogriff!"

"With pleasure!" Regine jumped out of her hiding spot.

Callista hastened to her friend. "Oh no, I am not stealing any likelihood in approaching to that deadly looking Hippogriff and so are you, Regine."

"Yeah, there is no way I'm going anywhere near the bird… Or, is it a horse?"

"So much for the prominent Gryffindor bravery," Daphne said harshly. "A lion? Hmph… they should have dubbed you Gryffindor fools as scary cats, instead of lions." Daphne had now folded her arms over her chest, wand still in her left hand. "And, enough with the bird and the horse thing, Jonnet. It stinks of foolishness and I, for one, do not wish any of it to contaminate me."

"Then, why don't you go ahead and touch it!" Sheila gritted her teeth.

"I'm not falling for your stupid taunt," Daphne retorted.

"What? What taunt?" As fast as her anger arose, it replaced into one of confusion. "I don't get it. I wasn't taunting you, Daph."

This simple course of action served to irritate Daphne. "I…you…Grr, just lock your lips tight, Jonnet! Or I'll sew it up myself!"

"Or, you'll what?" Sheila challenged.

"I just said it, didn't I?" Daphne had to refrain herself from roaring angrily. "I said I sew your mouth if I have to!"

"Oh?" Taken aback and eyes fluttering, Sheila recomposed herself. "W-Well, I-I'll sue yours back! Hah! Beat that!"

Daphne buried her face into her hands and her groans were consequently muffled by it. Callista choked a chuckle and hid a smile behind her right hand. Regine discreetly elbowed Sheila, whispering to correct her mistake.

"It's 'sew', not 'sue'?" asked the baffled looking Sheila. She growled in frustration and threw her hands up in the air, glaring her three friends. "Well, boo-hoo, who cares! What does it matter anyway? It's the same thing, ain't it? The pronunciations of two words are similar enough, just with different spellings, that's all!"

"Wha' yeh all waitin' for?" Hagrid's voice disrupted their fruitless banter.

A good thing too, for Daphne was, more or less, on the brink of throttling Sheila.

The three girls hesitated, not a toe was stepping front, bar Regine, whom was being held back by both Daphne and Callista. Harry had to take the first step. Dithering became a thing of the past as the girls unsteadily strayed down to the pumpkin patch, Regine being on the front, bouncing in her steps. "Righ', now hold yer steps… ("Right here," said Harry) Yes, righ' there…" Hagrid's tone altered to whisper, rising Buckbeak to its four legs. Buckbeak tossed its fierce head and the sharp lengthy talons on its front legs dug the ground.

"Now, firs' thin' yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is they're proud. Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Never insult one, cause it migh' be the last thin' yeh do," lectured Hagrid. "Yeh always wait fer Hippogriffs ter make the firs' move. It's polite, yeh see? Walk to it an' bow your head low. Go on."

"Ridiculous," Daphne said, twirling her wand for no apparent reason. "There is no way I can envision myself in bowing down to that brute."

Before anyone could blink, the Hippogriff squawked crossly and galloped its way to Daphne, ensuing in sharp intakes of breath from the other three girls. "Daphne, get behind me!" Harry's posture was rigid, his hands up, preparing himself to fend off the Hippogriff. The sounds of clanking long chain thwarted Buckbeak's attempts from advancing any more to them. Hagrid had to wrestle it down.

"Daphne!" Regine's tone was one to chastise. "Didn't you hear what Hagrid said? Never insult a Hippogriff, they can understand you! Thank Merlin, Harry is here and Buckbeak is chained. If not, who knows what could happen to you."

"I-It wasn't meant for an insult. I was merely laying out a truthful fact." Daphne clung onto Harry.

"Next time, don't utter any words in front of a creature that is huge enough to topple you down," Harry commented wryly, hands now shoved to his trouser's pockets. "It may be the last thing you ever do in this life."

"I blame Jonnet for this," Daphne hissed.

"Me?" Sheila exclaimed, eyes flew wide and was pointing to herself. "How is it my fault for your own mistake?"

"That's because you have penchant of opening your mouth without reflecting your words and how it affects people around you. Now, it infects me. Ugh, the sheer thought of developing more and more into Jonnet is quiet infuriating…"

"I'm just glad to see you both are unharmed." Callista's fear was very much allayed. "And Daphne, you ought to end this horrible habit of yours in blaming everyone for your own blunders and start taking a little bit responsibility for it. Admitting faults is one way of moving forward as well as improving ourselves. By doing so, we learn from our mistakes and strive in our endeavors to not repeat it again. Also, you really must dispose the more nasty side of yours in deriding and scorning everyone which may I remind you include us, your friends."

"Hah!" Sheila looked jubilantly smug and Daphne was disgruntled.

Harry looked over his shoulder, grinning a little at Daphne. "A moment ago, you were hell bent on divesting it from its feathers. Now look at you, you haven't even let go of my robe yet, still shaking." The girls recognizing this, exploded into a heap of giggles.

Face as hot as a frying pan, Daphne detached herself from him. "Stow it, Potter, or you will find yourself at the tip of my wand! And, you bet I'll poke your damn eyes with it!"

"Wands are meant for magic, not stabbing other people's eyes," they all recited concurrently. Funnily enough, Harry and Hagrid contributed their voices in the chorus.

"Pfft, whatever…" Daphne looked self-important. "I see no difference."

An indignant squawk from Buckbeak had Daphne jumped, losing her entire composure in the process. She did not waste any second in securing a shelter behind Harry, hands back to clutching his school robe. She poked her head out and mustered her fiercest stare. When Buckbeak countered it with a set of its own glare, Daphne was quick to duck her head from the beast's line of sight.

* * *

><p>It was minutes later, and all of the excitement subsided. The girls, as per Hagrid's instruction, were obliged to bow their heads low in front the mighty Hippogriff. As soon as the last of the three girls had concluded their judgment from the Hippogriff, Daphne's turn was up. The unfamiliar apprehensiveness amassed her chests. Daphne had to fight down the sudden longing to spring away from Buckbeak, and yanked out her trusty wand, and just be done with it. She did not as her friends wheedled her not to.<p>

With the bow and preservation of eye-contact, it was, at least, disconcerting to Daphne as she struggled to cope with the hard haughty gaze from the Hippogriff. After more minutes of criticizing her, the Hippogriff majestically ruffled its feathers before bowing its head. They all cheered, aside from Harry, and Daphne had to let out the breath she's been involuntarily holding. She had misgivings to pat it, but permitted a twitch of small smile when the Hippogriff purred contently at the feeling of her hands. The hilarious part was where Daphne initiated a conversation with it.

"Listen up, bird, or horse, or whatever you are- oh gosh, I am developing more and more into Jonnet. How fantastic…" Daphne grumbled. "What we had a moment ago was an utter brief of misunderstanding."

"Bark," said Buckbeak.

"It wasn't meant an insult for you, I was affirming a simple fact! Would you rather I be untruthful?"

"Bark."

"Apology accepted." Daphne bobbed her head. "I would hate to fight you in a duel and bear in mind, the thought had elapsed my mind more than one time. Fortunately for you, I reserved it as my last resort if you and I never get to see eye-to-eye in things." Buckbeak barked huffily in response. "What? You think I'm spreading a mere false tale, just so you quake in fear right before me?" Daphne pondered on this. "Well… I suppose you do have a point there. But, I assure you, you won't survive against me. My records in forwarding those botches of male to the infirmary is quite achievement if I do say so myself."

"Bark."

"Trust me, Hippogriff, the last thing you ever wish in this pathetic world, is combating me in a duel." Daphne patted him softly on the head.

"Bark."

"Duly noted. I'm glad we have come to an accord then. For future reference, I will remind myself not to ever cross you again. Those talons of yours are _sure _looking rather sharp." Subsequent to that, Daphne averted her attention to Regine. "Thank you for interpreting me the meaning behind those barks, Regine. Beyond doubt, I appreciate your help."

Regine inclined her body closer to Sheila, whispering, "What am I? A translator?"

"No, but with your gift in comprehending the animals-like, it assist me far more than I can imagine."

Regine jolted at Daphne's voice. "A-Ah, y-you heard, Daphne?"

"Yes, unfortunately for you. What is more, you were not talking to Jonnet, you were, in fact, mistaken me for her." Daphne fixed her with an emotionless irk look. The mortify blush on Regine's smeared all over her face. "I'm affronted you ever consider me to be anything like her. I am nothing like that reckless idiot."

"Hey!" Sheila involved herself in their conversation. "What's the part of me you find so insulting?"

"Everything," Daphne sniffed portentously. "Including the idiot part."

"W-why you…" Sheila seethed, hands balling into tight fists. "Someday, I'm going to shave your head, clean and smooth!"

"Alright, alright, that's enough, you two. None of us have any desire for either of your conflicts to escalate." Callista smiled at her friend's antics. "Harry, it's your turn now. Keep in mind to maintain your eyes with Buckbeak as you bow your head down low-"

"Forget it," Harry cut her off. "I am nothing like Daphne. I'm disinclined in bowing down to that Hippogriff."

"Harry…" ("Potter…") They all cautioned, exceedingly concern of him. Harry overlooked the girls and marched to the huge creature, stomping in his footsteps. Knowing how obstinate Harry can be, the girls panicked and hastened to Hagrid. Eyes darted to Buckbeak, Harry settled right in front of it, the distance separates them was mere inches apart.

"Listen up and listen well, Hippogriff, I don't bow to the strongest man alive - much less to you or anyone else - so I most definitely am not doing it anytime soon. Let it be clear between us that there is no need to bow with each other. You show me respect and I'll return it with equal favor, understand?" Harry said, scowling. "You can make an exception for me, only me. Just know I am not belittling you. In actual truth, I view you as one of the descendant of the long lost powerful mystical Griffin. So, no bow-bow to each other, okay?"

With those words he left hanging in the air, Harry went to one of the large pumpkin and sat on it, flexing his muscle arms and legs. Buckbeak continued to perch its eyes on Harry as if realizing his presence for the first time ever. At this, Buckbeak eagerly waddled its way to Harry. The girls had arrived hauling Hagrid from the back of his hut, just to discover Buckbeak moving over to Harry. They all, as well as Harry, were extremely amazed when Buckbeak was quite importunate in affectionately rubbing its head against Harry's cheek. It was as if it was hankering after Harry's attention.

"Okay, okay!" Harry couldn't help himself from chuckling at its persistency. "Alright, alright, that's enough, Buckbeak… I don't know what the hell is going on or why are you acting like this, but settle down. I'm not going anywhere, see?" Harry stroked its feathers where it had crooning delightfully. After a while, Buckbeak calmed down and folded its four legs to lounge on the ground next to Harry, with an occasional head rubs to his leg.

"This is… just…impossible…" Callista fluttered her eyes, not believing the sight for even one second. Little by little, she strode to them, musing to herself, "Then again, this is Harry. He tends to defy the boundaries of possibility. He doesn't have an ounce of normalcy in him."

"I heard that…"

Callista's head whipped up at the tone of his voice and she smiled sheepishly in forward to the looks he sent her.

Daphne brushed past her and moved over to Harry, stamping lightly in her steps. Daphne had no pretense of being unobtrusive in brashly announcing her thoughts. "He should have been the one to bow down to the Hippogriff, and not me… Why must I be the one to? This is stupid… My pride is being chopped into pieces right about now… Daphne Greengrass should have never her head bow to the likes of anyone…"

Harry appeared to be exceedingly amuse by her words.

In contrast to Daphne's reaction, Sheila grinned brightly, rushing over to him. "That's amazing, Harry! I didn't know you could make it to like you! Who knew you had in you and I thought Regine is good with animals, but you brought it to a whole new level!" At the pure excitement decanting from the girl, Harry had to smile back.

"Who would have known, indeed…" Regine said. "How did you do it, Harry? I never heard a Hippogriff could submit to anyone."

"Is that a trace of jealousy in your tone, Regine?"

"W-What? D-Don't be so stupid! I am not envy of you having such reaction from Buckbeak! W-Why should I anyway? It's just one creature and-" She clamped her mouth shut, face flustered. "I-I mean…I was being curious, nothing more…"

"Sure you are…" Harry hid a smile at her poor attempt in crafting up good lies. Regine was never one to be excellent in lying, particularly if she was caught off guard. Harry could grant a much better credit to his almost five year old sister in lying.

"How yeh doin' it, Harry?" Hagrid demanded enthusiastically. "Even, I had ter bow me head firs' time I mee' them."

"Not a clue." Harry made up his mind to transfer the attention away from him. "Say, Hagrid, isn't today your first day teaching? How are you faring?"

"Good!" Hagrid beamed, now his inquisitiveness of Harry was forgotten. "Bin up since five preparin' everythin' nice an' ready."

"Preparing?" Daphne treaded her question cautiously.

"Aye!"

Sheila edged closer to Callista, "Wonder what he's been preparing for?"

"I have a feeling the answer to your question lies in front of us, Sheila." Buckbeak tilted its head to Callista. She smiled softly and patted its beak. The Hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying the smooth of her hands. "You know, girls, it's not horribly bad dilly dallying around Hagrid's pets. It's honestly pleasant for once…"

"See, what did I told you, girls… All those times the three of you were exaggerating. There was never any threat in spending time around Hagrid's pets." Harry and the other three girls rolled their eyes at Regine for being so optimistic around such dangerous creatures. If confronting Acromatulas, a Cerberus, and a Dragon were not precarious, then their Hufflepuff friend is truly something. It was ordinary for people to have a primal fear in brazening out against such bloody creatures, not Regine though, never her.

"Okay then…" Harry stood up, sweeping the soot off his attire. "I think we overstay our visit. Lunch is about to be serve so we best head back. I wish you luck for your first class, Hagrid."

"What, already? Can't we stay with Buckbeak more?" Regine pleaded. "I've thought of a wonderful game we all should play with Buckbeak."

"No!" The three girls each grabbed a hold of her and hauled her away from Hagrid's hut. If there was one thing they all came to be familiar about playing games with Hagrid's pets, was their life were constantly in jeopardy. They shuddered at those horrid memories sinking in on them.

"Later, Hagrid!" Harry yelled out.

Hagrid grinned largely, winking and waved back with his large hand. As Harry was leaving to the castle, Buckbeak climbed to its four feet from its relaxing position and struggled to tag along Harry. It squawked snappily when the chain around its neck, impeded its movement. All of them, counting Harry, were flabbergasted by this. Harry had to retreat back to pacify it.

"Wooah, boy… Listen, I can't stay here, I have to be in someplace else. I will visit you if I have the time to, so you behave yourself when I'm not around and try not to assault anyone even if they disrespect you, you understand?" Harry said, hands tousling its beautiful feathers. "You never know the problems it will bring you if you act rashly… so try to calm yourself, okay?"

Buckbeak bowed at his words to which it had one of Harry's eyebrows arched. Things in his life had gone from bizarrely weird to freakishly weirder after his adventure into the realm of between life and death, and frankly, this was one of them. Another excellent example was the fact he can now distinguish the creatures known as Thestrals. It was not morbid as he once thought it would be. At first, he was more perturbed at laying his sight upon them, nevertheless, it alleviated his uneasiness after having come to terms to the creatures' presence and existence.

With one last pat and a wave to Hagrid, Harry instructed his legs to the direction of the girls. "What?" he demanded, ceasing his walks. He did not like the odd looks the girls lobbing at him.

"Harry, it could only happen to you…" Callista couldn't resist caressing his cheek tenderly. Then, she walked up ahead, abandoning her friends behind.

"Only you, Potter, only you…" Daphne scurried past him.

"Yeah, it could only be you, Harry, and no one else." Sheila grinned broadly, dashing up to her two friends.

"You're not going to reiterate their words, are you?"

"What?" Regine was puzzled. "No, why would I be?" Her eyes proceeded to undertake a dangerous gleam. "I was thinking if you can use whatever it is that made Buckbeak likes you to the other more violent creatures? Think about it, we could learn more about them! I wonder if we could visit Aragog with whatever it is you carry, Harry…"

"Regine…" her friends groaned out. They scuttled to her and lugged their protesting animal loving friend away from Harry. The sole male of their company smiled amusedly, shaking his head and tailed after the girls. They were simply too unique and different in their own way.

* * *

><p><strong>21 September 1993. <strong>

"What!"

Heads after heads regarded them with curiosity. Bathsheda Babbling, Professor of the Ancient Runes, was looking greatly disapprove for their interruption in her class. Daphne, from their left side, puckered her brows in displeasure at the proximity closure of their bodies. Her frown deepened significantly as they were conferring in something she wasn't in. Ravenclaw and Slytherin were sharing Ancient Runes together. Since Callista and Harry were sitting together, Daphne was compelled to sit with her ex-roommate, Barbara Zabini. Slytherin upper years, fifth to seventh year, were given the benefit of having their own room.

"Harry!" Callista admonished, ducking her head in embarrassment, cheeks stained pink.

"Sorry, Professor, it won't happen again," Harry said, offering her a false sincere impression. Professor Babbling nodded her head stiffly and resumed her teaching. Harry considerately lowered his voice, "How dare Lupin pry my life through other people. It's not any of his concern what goes on in my life. He even had the nerve to try coaxing you into telling something about me. Even if his intentions were sincere and nice, it still didn't give him the right to be nosy on my private affairs. Doesn't he know the meaning of loyalty? Apparently he doesn't, since he went after you girls to know about me. If it for me not being in his class, I could understand, but if it is otherwise, then that's an entirely different matter."

"Did you ever forgive them?" Callista's soft tone reached to Harry's ears.

"There was nothing to forgive for. There is a say 'forgive and forget' and I had long taken those words to heart. Half of it was my fault anyway. I never said anything to them nor I announced my presence to them, never even dared to connect to them, just faded into the shadows and… resented them, I guess… Now that I think about it, it's kinda foolish to latch onto a grudge in regards to the past. There is no meaning to it. Better step forward than backward, let go of the past and dream of the future. There was never any benefit in yearning for the past that doesn't exist anymore. Though, it's hard to forget and sever yourself from it. The past is a part of who we are…" He circled his neck to her, not caring how close their faces were.

"The thing is… Black and Lupin were more of… strangers to me than acquaintances. Even when I was little, my parents - no matter how vague the memories - were the only thing I remember. I'm more inclined to reconcile with my parents and mend the strains, rather than my 'uncles'." Harry grimaced. "It doesn't matter anyway. I have no ill-feelings against them, probably because I'll always see them as strangers. Lupin, though, had no rights interrogating my life from anyone. If it is a school matter, I don't bloody mind since he_ is_ one of my Professors, but matters concerning my life are different and I cherish my privacy more than anything else."

Fingers interlaced with his, underneath the table. "And, we're here for you, Harry, always…"

"I know." Harry smiled sincerely at her proclamation. "I know…"

Callista was more centered on Harry's lips, feeling an overwhelming impulse to swoop down her own soft lips to him. Those lips of his were just beseeching to be kiss. Screwing up her courage, she tipped her head forward, slowly yet surely closing in on him. She discounted everything around them, eyes glued to his lips. She drew in a sharp breath as his warm breath caressed her cheek. Her heart pounded violently. Just one more push was all she needed and that's when "Ow!" a surge of pain flowed through her from her left arm.

"What's wrong?" Harry was worried, absolutely oblivious to his attractive friend was one step closer to kissing him.

"N-nothing, Harry, let's just concentrate on the class. We don't want to miss anything, right?"

"You and your hunger for knowledge..." A smile of fondness etched on his lips and he shifted his total awareness to the Professor.

Callista, for her case, was kneading her arm from the pain she suffered. It was as if a stinging hex was launched towards her. She had a sneaky suspicion as to who it was for intruding to what it could be the best moment in her life. She swung to her left side, still massaging her sore arm and gave a hostile look to the culprit. Daphne's interest, however, was solely focusing to what the Professor was harping on. Callista knew better to not fall for Daphne's convincing guiltless look. After all, Callista invented the innocent act and she could tell one of her techniques if she ever saw one.

There, on the right sleeve of her uniform, the tip of her wand was poking out and all of the sudden, Daphne's fingers rammed her wand back deep inside to block it from Callista's sharp eyes. Recognizing the all too familiar superior and victorious smirk on Daphne's lips, Callista's face contorted into anger and burned red, and every fiber of her body was screaming in fury. If possible, Callista's glare enhanced, a far cry from her gentle personality and her level-headedness. There was no mistake as to who it was anymore and Daphne wasn't even denying or being inconspicuous.

"Ms. Campbell, will you please pay attention?!"

With an undignified 'Eep!', Callista's hands covered her mouth, eyes broadened in terror, zooming in onto Babbling's reproachful eyes. Next to her, Harry exhibited signs of worry for her, whilst Daphne's smirk was swapped with a huge grin and her eyes roguishly twinkled in satisfaction.

* * *

><p><strong>31 October 1993. <strong>

Attributable to the hot sun dazzling up above the sky, Sunday morning was lovely and warmed. Regardless of it, there was cool breeze everywhere, indicating winter was about to turn up. Today was the first Hogsmeade visit for third years ranging up to seventh years. Harry was dressed in casual clothes of his own sense of fashion and for the first time, didn't hassle to wear his favorite brown coat. In its place was one of the luxurious robes that were given to him by the Greengrass during last year Christmas.

The girls found this latest piece of news to be weird. Harry brushed it off nonchalantly, alleging it to be a waste to not wear the robes that were bought for him. The girls didn't badger any more, not contradicting the simple logic behind his words. Presently, they were ambling down the street of Hogsmeade village, merely strolling around. Harry blew out a frustrated sigh. Strolling around was a complete understatement to him. The girls had taken upon themselves to pop to the next shop and the next and so forth, in favor of buying something that grabbed their fancy.

Hours passed by, and all of them hit upon themselves stumbling into the Three Broomsticks.

"Ah, so tired… I swear you four will be the death of me." Harry's twitched in aggravation. "Are you four even listening to what I'm saying? I didn't know I'm invisible to you girls. Or, better yet, am I talking to the wall this very whole time?" he snarled, tone laced with deep sarcasm."Oh sorry, my mistake, it's not one wall, it's four bloody walls!"

"Oh, stuff it, Potter." Daphne scowled. She was incredibly annoyed at him for interposing her conversation with Sheila and Regine. "We have better things to do than listening on you bleating to us. You are all full grown and big so be a man, would you?"

Regine had, at least, the decency to look guilty. "We're sorry, Harry. We didn't mean any of it and Daphne too. It's just her way of asking for forgiveness, right, Daphne?" Daphne was not rebuffing nor was she concurring to Regine's statement.

"We apologize, Harry." Callista lowered the book she purchased, just for her eyes to look contritely at him. "I assure you though, it was not deliberate for us to ignore you. We were too captivated by the many trinkets paraded around the stores and engrossed with whatever we were doing at the time. We meant nothing by it."

"Yeah, I'm sorry too, Harry," Sheila chirped glibly. Three girls stared expectantly at Daphne.

"Fine, fine." Daphne waved her hand offhandedly. "With heavy heart and unwilling I am, I express my deepest regret at not gracing your presence amongst us mere mortals, Potter." She, then, switched her attention to her female friends."There, happy?"

"Daphne," Callista said gently. "That's very disingenuous of you."

"I did say 'heavy heart', how can I not be sincere with such words?"

Callista rolled her eyes, choosing not to respond to her friend's sarcasm and opted to concentrate more on her book.

"I didn't know you have a heart, Daph."

Daphne bristled in her seat at the comment from the grinning Sheila. "If I don't have a heart, then how am I suppose to live!" Daphne snarled irately. The casual shrug from Sheila just did nothing to improve Daphne's mood.

Dropping her book, Callista swiftly prevented the conflict to get worsen any further, successfully stopping Daphne from fishing out her wand.

"Okay…Let's just pretend that never happen," Regine chuckled nervously.

The next thing they were all being acquainted in, was the quietness. It was more of a content peace and not the awkwardness, and each was occupied in their own deep thoughts. Without a single utter of words, Sheila and Callista elevated themselves from their seats to get their Butterbeers from Madam Rosmerta, the busty barmaid of the Three Broomsticks. With her wand out, Callista was the first to reappear back with four Butterbeers floating around her. Handing each to her respective friends, she procured her previous seat, claiming her book once more. Harry shot her a look of query as to whereabouts of Sheila.

Callista notified everyone that their ever so perky friend was chatting with one of her roommates.

Daphne and Regine were disputing on whether they should joyfully volunteer themselves to be the first to interact with whatever creature for their next Care of Magical Creatures lesson, or not. Daphne vehemently argued that she don't have any desire to get her hands filthy, or her straight beautiful hair covered in soil dirt like the last time and announced in no nonsense tone that they're going to simply observe from afar in their next class. Harry shook his head affably. From miles and miles away, he could predict the upshot of their argument. It will conclude in Daphne - no matter how relentless the girl is - tentatively conceding to Regine's proposal. Regine simply have perpetual way on coercing people to acquiesce anything with her.

It was in this train of thought, the peacefulness was shattered when a Butterbeer was unceremoniously dumped to him. Regine and Daphne immediately ended their argument, their attention locked to Harry. Eyes went huge, Callista regressed her chair a step away from her wet dripping friend. Eyes half lidded, Harry erected his best poker face and emotionless look he wore. He was soaked in Butterbeer from head to knees, droplets of water sliding from the ends of his hair. There was no need for Harry to glance behind him to know the person responsible for his current quandary.

"Sheila!" Harry burst, looking down at his drench outfit. "Bloody buggering hell!"

Fortunately, the event went unseen by the people since Callista had cast a Notice-Me-Not charm around their table earlier on.

Sheila's eyes were as large as saucers, both hands covering her mouth. "I-I'm sorry! It's that stupid rug! It made me trip and slip my Butterbeer from my hands! I'm such a klutz! Don't you worry, I'll fix you up in a jiffy, Harry!" Sheila said those words in haste, not pausing to catch her breath.

Not bothering the unmistakable detail that she's a witch and her friends were with her, Sheila dragged her chair to Harry's empty side. "Sheila…" Callista's attempt to intervene was spurned. Sheila scooted her chair closer to Harry and pulled out her handkerchief from her pocket. "Jonnet, don't you dare-" Daphne's words fell to deaf ears. Sheila endeavored to dry Harry up by wiping the liquid off him. Initially, Sheila centered on Harry's body, face cutely scrunched up in concentration. Once her hands arrived to his face, she made a deliberate show of cleaning his lips a bit longer. Her handkerchief traced the lines of his lips. With no amount of uncertainty, she bent her head closer to him, eyes fixated to Harry's lips.

The other girls bristled in their seats at Sheila's boldness.

"Um… Sheila?" Harry's face tinged red. There was something pleasant and lighthearted tingling in his stomach.

Just as the raven-haired girl was on the verge of taking a huge leap, she jerked her head back, flapping her eyelashes at the now clean and dry Harry. Her hopeful cheery face substituted to one of her rare frowns. Twin shades of red colored her cheeks and her glare was aimed to their brilliant friend, Callista. Wand in hand and her book now lay forgotten, Callista's eyes narrowed, daring Sheila to say, or do something about it. Harry's confusion manifested more when he was spun to his left side and was greeted by the sight of sweet smiling face of Regine, as her hands were all over him, ensuring him if he was ever truly dry.

Dimly, he was aware of the heated argument behind him.

On one side, Daphne was accusing Sheila of something and Sheila was evidently defending herself, lamely explaining the reason behind her actions. He couldn't make out what, since they were whispering starkly to each other, but he knew it had something to do with him. The whole time this squabble transpired, another dispute took place. And, on the other side, Callista glowered daggers at Regine. She knew it was simply Regine's ploy or an excuse for her to feel Harry's muscles. After it was too much for her to tolerate, Callista interfered by slapping away Regine's hands. Two set of glares clashed one another and Harry's attention swung to them, his bafflement was plain as daylight.

"Okay, that's enough!" All actions terminated at their table and Harry, himself, was in a state of bewilderment. "What the hell is going on here? One moment you girls were all friendly and the next thing I knew, all of you quarrelling like some predators marking and hunting over the same prey." The blushes they're sporting puzzled Harry more. "Is there something I really should know? I get the feeling you girls are keeping something from me." He pressed further, hesitating a bit, "Am I really a bad friend that you girls don't trust me with the secrets you all are not telling me?"

"No!" By the looks of his face, their similar and simultaneous answer swept Harry off his feet.

"It's our fault, Potter, not yours." They looked stun at Daphne's admission. Conscious of their looks, Daphne said, "What?"

"You're admitting your mistake…" Sheila grinned, eyes sparkling in never ending exultant. "Daph, you never take a blame for anyone nor you ever acknowledging your own mistake."

"I didn't say it was mine," Daphne quickly denied, arms folded together over her chests. "Who gave you the right idea I was saying so, Jonnet? I merely stated such words to comfort Potter, so as to assuage his fear." Daphne, then, shed Harry a soft meaningful look and for whatever reason it was, it warmed him in the inside. "You're not, Harry… So never say you are…"

That had it. His face boiled up to the point it was uncontrollable and he didn't know how he managed to curb the blush rising up his neck but he thankfully did. "Yeah, no doubt about it." Sheila was looking fierce in her claim and what's worse to Harry, her expression was full of solemnity. In all his life, he had never seen her so serious. His heart soared and the small blush formed on his two cheeks didn't help at all as it deepened more.

"Harry…why do you always think like that?" It was for that obvious reason Harry believed Regine's unwavering loyalty was more fitting for her to be a true Hufflepuff than the rest of her housemates. "You're not a bad friend, never were and never will. You were always there when we needed you, always giving us a shoulder to lean on, always protecting us from every threats, always listening to our every word no matter how dull it is, always paying attention to our likes and dislikes, always taking the time to know us, always displaying a genuine keen interest in everything we love and so much more… We can list a hundred of reasons, and it will still be not enough for us… So-" Regine presented him with her somber look. "-So, don't say such things, okay?"

His cheeks heated more and more. It was when Callista smiling at him that caused his face to drown in red. The Ravenclaw girl, for all time, smiled gently and politely to everyone regardless if they were teachers or students. However, the smile she currently donned for him was dissimilar from any other version of her smiles. It set tingles in his head and studying each of their facials, there was a very pleasant sensation in his stomach. It was as if some Butterflies swarming all over it.

Suddenly, Harry hopped to his feet, his cool demeanor was plummeting rapidly.

"Harry?" Regine reached out in concern.

Heart racing, face flushing deeply and head facing away from the girls, Harry mumbled in near inaudible voice, "I-I need to go and order something to eat. I'm a bit hungry and all... So, um…yeah…" Briskly, Harry scurried away from their table, mistaken the strange Butterflies for hunger. The four girls were befuddled by this.

"Huh?" Sheila said, confusion written all over her face. "Was it something we said?"

"You tell me, Jonnet… I, myself, am having a difficult time in figuring out Potter's reaction." Daphne took a sip of her Butterbeer. "Or, was it something we did?"

"Should we apologize then?" Regine asked, eyes lingering on Harry's retreating figure.

"I think it's us being naïve and inexperience in dealing boys, Regine, despite how much time we spend with Harry." Callista sighed, letting herself immerse in her book once again. "Boys can be so complicated. I'd be happier if I could just return to my books."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Sheila snorted. "I still don't understand how books can be a source of entertainment! I'd rather wriggle my arse in doing something exhilarating, like- um, uh… l-like riding my broom! Yeah! Now that's fun, Callista."

Callista rolled her eyes amicably. "Not everyone take pleasure in flying."

Regine dabbed her mouth with her handkerchief. "Yeah, and you never know, there may be someone out there who had never ridden a broom in his or her life. It's no wonder why not everybody shares your feeling in flying, Sheila."

"What?" Sheila was appalled. "Why would no one want to ride a broom? I totally understand if you don't enjoy it, but you must have been curious about flying. Those type of people have to be stupid or the life they're in is just plain boring. Who would…" Her eyes budged to a particular person "Oh…"

Daphne looked murderous seeing as she did not like to be reminisced of her failure in brooms, attributable to her fear of height. She had never ridden a broom before and it was not a secret to everyone. In her first year, she had flat out being honest to Madam Hooch regarding the reason why she did not have any desire to be on a broom and the flying instructor approved of her explanation, allowing Daphne to remain on the ground.

"Watch it, you three," Daphne growled. "Just for the reason that all of you are my best friends, it does not imply anything. Do not think for one second, you are safe from me gouging your damn eyes with my wand."

"Daphne…" Callista's eyes went astray from her book to her friend. "We've gone over this many times now. Wands are not intended to poke anyone's eyes nor stab anything, it's for summoning our magic and utilized it to its fullest. Furthermore, you need to watch your language. It's improper for a lady to swear."

"I can swear however I want to and whenever I choose to," Daphne revealed in a manner befitting a pureblood aristocratic princess. "And just because I have never been on a broom in my entire oh-so-not-boring life-" she gave a fierce look to Sheila. "-it does not mean I do not have any familiarity on how to mount the abominable thing. It will be effortless like breathing the air for the first time ever. I only require someone to instruct me and guide me as I am on a broom."

Three of her friends were looking thoroughly skeptical and were more concern of the injuries she'll attained if she ever rode a broom in the near future. In an unspoken manner, they were all in agreement to ward off Daphne from any brooms and not permitting her to get hold any of it.

"Yeah…" Sheila said unsurely. "Of course you can, Daph…"

"I have my utmost confidence in- err… your ability to- umm… r-ride a broom…" Regine patted her friend's hand, her smile was a bit too forceful.

Callista shoved her face to her book. "Just please do not force us to be your flying instructor, Daphne."

"Fine!" Daphne chucked her hands up in the air and was on her feet. "If any of you do not believe me then perhaps, a simple demonstration is in order. I will prove it to everyone and I look forward to watching you three swallow your own words. But, first thing first, I'm going to search for someone who can spare a time or two for me, preferable someone who had a wide extension of knowledge and experience in brooms, someone I am very close and- Hmm…" As her sly brain was struck by the rare opportunity, Daphne's lips cracked a grin and she had a conniving look on her.

"I suppose I could request Potter to coach me how to fly. I'm convinced he won't decline. Though, I do need to ride with him first, just so I can experience how to fly without falling. Who knows, on account of my fear of height, I may have to wrap my arms around him and… embrace him as closely as I can… Or, perhaps, I'm on the front and he's behind me. That way, his arms could… drape around me…" Shivering, her eyes underwent a possessive gleam and she had a faraway look."Well… there is the possibility it will cure my fear after my many rides with him. I'm told, a night in the sky is quite…how you put it? Romantic?"

Daphne shrugged her shoulders and, as elegant as she could bring herself to, was very swift on her way to Harry. It had taken a few moments for the three young attractive girls to register the words of their sneaky gorgeous blond friend. As soon as it did, all three stood in an abrupt manner, knocking their chairs backward. "Daphne!" Her three flustering friends chased after her.

* * *

><p>"I'll save a seat for you, big sister." Noah Barberis smiled brightly to her sister.<p>

"Thank you, Noah." A smile crept through the corner of Regine's lips. "You go on ahead. You don't want to keep Stori waiting, right? It's never good to keep a girl waiting for you."

The smallest boy of the first years nodded his head and scampered on the path to the Great hall.

"You have such an adorable brother, Regine." Sheila sighed. "I wish I had little siblings to dote on."

"I as well…" Callista smiled, eying down the path of where Noah most likely scuttled off. "He never gave you plenty of troubles, did he, Regine?"

"Nope," Regine beamed proudly. "Noah was never the troublemaker, it was more on my little brothers. The twins, Ethan and Nathan, were always off to doing mischievous stuff and it once drove my parents crazy in one of their naughtiness." Regine's face twisted to one of anxiousness. "You don't think my twin brothers will be a production of another Weasley twins, do you? I certainly hope not."

"Probably, especially if the four happen to come across one another," Daphne said in her best boring tone. "There is the likelihood of the Weasley twins crafting them up to be their successor and molding them into the next generation of twins to instigate mayhem in Hogwarts. It is a very rare opportunity for them to find twins that does as many mischiefs as them."

"Well, if you put it that way…" Sheila rubbed the scruff of her neck. "It is the kind of thing to be expected by everybody, Regine."

"But, I'm certain there is another possibility it will not happen," Callista hurriedly added at spotting Regine's expression gradually falling to one of distress and alarm. "After all, they have yet to encounter each other."Callista, then, mumbled the last part to herself, "Though, I dread upon a chance they do."

"You want my opinion, Regine? I think your twin brothers are alright, it's your other brother I'm not okay with. He's a runt. If it were not for the fact that I reserve the moniker 'brat' for my brother then I would have called your brother 'brat' and not the name 'runt'. Considering how small he is, I say it suited him just fine."

"Harry!"

"What? He's the one who started the whole thing," Harry defended himself. "He never likes me anyway. I don't even know why."

"You being so close to Regine," Sheila blurted.

"Sheila!" Regine's cheeks dusted pink in color.

"Why is it such a big deal? There is nothing wrong with that." Harry was mystified, but his question was ignored.

"I beg to differ," Daphne argued. "Everyone knows I am closest to Potter out of us four."

"What? Who said that? I- You're not, Daph!" Sheila instinctively rejected Daphne's words.

Regine's blush had now become furious. "That's not true!"

"You can't even say his first name and instead, you favor calling him by his last name. How is that any indication or signs you're close to him? Of course not, everybody knows you have to call Harry by his first name to be_ really_ close to him," Callista dissented. "So, tell me again, how is it you're the one who is closest to him, Daphne?"

Daphne went red in the face, presumably incensed. "It's merely how I am! It's not relevant as to how I call him whether by his first or his last name, it's more of the verity that I expend most of my time to be with him than any of you!"

"Um, g-girls?"

"That's not good enough," Sheila scoffed. "Every single one of us knows that I'm the likeliest one to get to spend more time with him. We always fly on our brooms together to relieve the stress and during one of our free time."

"Hardly to say you're closest to him. What all people can tell and agree on is Harry's love for flying. It gives him a sense of freedom. Besides, I'm willing to bet my galleon's worth that he didn't even notice you when you were up flying together. It's not like he was talking to you up in the sky. And, as much as you'd like to delude yourself, Sheila, the Dementors are now skulking around in this time of year and it forced you both to limit your time flying together. A pity, isn't it?" Regine voiced out snidely, causing Sheila to fume and grind her teeth together.

"Oh, like yours is any better!" Sheila snapped.

"Actually, it is." Regine's posture was full of smug. "May I remind you all who Harry constantly visits and seeks all the time? The last time he's in Gryffindor and Slytherin common room was months ago. He has been a frequent company in the Hufflepuff tower, not for my other housemates, but for me. Coupled with him being how he is, we do have a lot in common together."

Daphne scowled, arms crossing irately. "Potter is protective of you. He never likes the Hufflepuff anyway, he hates it, actually. He's there to shield you from your unpleasant housemates. Undoubtedly, Potter holds a grudge after they alienated you in the past. Every person who is in Hogwarts and has a common sense or a brain somewhere in their brick head, able to discern that! He's tolerable as well as likeable to the fifth years and below, seeing as they have nothing to do whatsoever with your horrible experience in your first year!"

"And that having a lot in common is bunch of bollocks! The only thing you two have a common ground is your background!" Sheila snarled. "So what if you both are Halfbloods? Both have little siblings? It doesn't matter to any of us!"

"You two are jealous!" Regine accusingly pointed out. "That's it, isn't it?"

"I'm not!" At the unison answer, both turned to glare at one another.

"Girls, girls, please, be rational…" Callista put an effort to appease them. Harry had never been so eternally grateful for the girl's aura in appeasing people. "Let us all confront the painful truth that I am much closer to Harry." Of course, his face fell at the next line of her words. Three heads whipped their heads to the Ravenclaw girl and mustered their callous glare for her. "Oh, please, everyone is aware of it and it cannot be denied that I get to spend more time with him than the three of you. We both regularly sit together in classes and meals. Not to mention, we being in the eagle's nest clarify everything seeing as we often intersect each other's path, be it in the common room or in other things such as Quidditch. Need I to explain more? And, do not provide me with silly excuse that the same thing could occur to the three of you if he was in your house. I remind you, it will change nothing. More than anything, Harry prefers my company more, since I am he most comfortable with…"

"This coming from someone who'd be happier to just return to her books? I don't think so!" Sheila barked."What conversation did Harry have to endure when he's with you? How exciting books are…" Sheila said mockingly. "I didn't know you're a social butterfly, Callista. All this time, my eyes must be playing tricks on me."

"And, I'm not listening to any words spewed by someone who, at times, is too suspiciously innocent for my or anyone's likings," Regine growled. "Don't think just because you're so intelligent and one of the top in our year, everything should be handed to you on a silver plate without you having to lift a finger, Callista. If anything, it should have been making your forehead big from reading too many books and from absorbing so much information!"

"Let us also not forget, how you love to dream of the day when every person in this damnable world deems your words as if they are sacred and faultless. What's more fancy building a large statue of yourself so they could worship you." Daphne's eyes were glinting wickedly. "Isn't it, Callista?"

"It is not!" Callista snarly protested, face flushing deep red. "That's very rich from the likes of you three! I will not idly sit by, listen and be patronize by-" she glared Regine. "-someone who can be very bossy in regards to meeting the most dangerous creatures that causes her to have no concern for her life or anyone around her, and by-" she glared Daphne. "-someone who has too much ego in herself sizable a horse wagon that can be no less carry by a dozen of full grown men, as well as by-" she glared Sheila."-someone who's mouth can be as big as a Hippopotamus mouth that have the tendency to blurt in an unsuitable timing!"

The three gasped at her harsh truthful words.

"I am not bossy!"

"My ego is not huge!"

"And, my mouth is not big!" Sheila exclaimed. "It's small, actually, see? And, what's Hiphop-lumos anyway?"

For a moment there, the other girls stared blankly at her, before their meaningless row recommenced to its usual intensity.

Left eye twitched in irritation, Harry threw his hands in exasperation. "Oh, I give up! You girls can fight all day long and see if I care! I've had enough of you girls for one day and I'm going to seek someone else company in someplace else… Anywhere is better than here…" Wheeling around, he shoved his hands into his trouser's pockets and marched to the large entrance of the castle.

"Harry!" they yelled out to his back, but Harry paid no heed to it. Watching their male friend acting so angry, they began blaming one after the other, spouting reason after reason why the other girl was to be blame for Harry's irritation. They, then, scurried to Harry's sides, all the way still blaming each other to which it heightened Harry's annoyance. He, at last, exhaled his breath noisily, kneading his temple in an effort to block the girls out.

* * *

><p>That Halloween night, near curfew, students gathered in the Great Hall. Several of the faculty members were standing guard outside the closing doors of the Great hall. The hall, itself, was covered with hundreds of squashy soft purple sleeping bags. Each of the students was dressed in night clothes of their own. Whispers, murmurs and burbles bounded all over the Great Hall. It was buzzing in excitement as the Gryffindors enlightened the rest of the school at what had occurred. On the far side of the corner, Harry's group was no different. Sheila was regaling the tale of the flight of fat lady and the person who had done it was none other than Pettigrew.<p>

Their group was joined by several of their year mates from other houses. They were Harry's two roommates, Jason Spum and Frank Birke, Callista's own roommates, Xi Li and Penelope Clearwater, Regine's only Hufflepuff friend, Anna Kowalski, and Daphne's Slytherin friends, Barbara Zabini and her other two friends. Most of them sat up and folded their legs together, whereas several of them climbed into their sleeping bags and propped themselves on their elbow to talk.

"How the hell did the swine pathetic excuse of a wizard manage to get here in the first place anyway?" Xi Li chimed. Penelope Clearwater nudged Xi's rib, afraid Pettigrew would spring out of nowhere and assailed Xi for her insult. Xi steadfastly ignored her friend's not so discreet move and concern.

"Knowing how large Hogwarts is, I won't be surprised if there are more secret passages than Filch could have known," Jason Spum supplied. "It is a bloody castle."

Frank Birke grinned, sprawling on his own sleeping bag and skimming a book he brought along. "Yeah, and we stumbled on more than quite a few…"

"Oh, you would know that, wouldn't you, Jerk?" Barbara Zabini snorted. She was admiring her pretty looks by the small mirror she had conjured. Her two other friends giggled at her words, smirking at the Ravenclaw male.

"It's Birke, Zabini," Frank glanced up from his book to scowl at the Italian girl and her friends.

"Makes no difference to me…" she shrugged.

"Much less I would like for you two to trade spells and you can be sure it will amuse me a great deal, I'd rather we keep this to a meaningful discussion. So extract your fangs, Zabini." Dressed in an expensive silk night gown, Daphne glared her past roommate to back off. "That means you too, Jerk."

"Oh, you can call me Jerk anytime you want, lovely lady." Frank tried to be charming, and in return he received a bland emotionless look from Daphne. It's unusual for him to be this close to the most beautiful girl in Hogwarts and it was not a chance for him to pass up.

"Not interested, Jerk," Daphne unmercifully and callously rejected him as if it was an everyday thing to do for her. Frank's face fell to despair and Jason patted his shoulder to comfort his friend.

"Daphne." Callista was in her own plain Muggle night clothes, a matching set of shirt and pants. "Be nice. Frank was trying to be courteous."

Raising her chin, the blond girl snootily held her nose up, an action she did whenever she rebuffed any advance of her suitors and her many admirers. Her three close friends rolled their eyes, accompanied with Sheila muttering something under her breath. An insult was more like it given how it earned her frightful glares from the heiress of the Greengrass family.

"Y-You do-on't think he'll come here and as-assault us while we're sleeping, do you?" Anna Kowalski, a shy and timid girl, fearfully asked her trusted friend. She was tightly hugging a big pillow she brought from her dorm room.

Clad in her own sleepwear, Regine smiled reassuringly. "No, no, of course not, Anna. If he does, don't worry, I'll watch your back."

"There is a reason why the professors assembled all of us in the Great Hall, while they conduct the hunt for the convict Peter Pettigrew."

"It's a way of protection for all of us. This way, Pettigrew would know we are guarded by the staff and under their supervision, he won't dare do anything to us," Xi translated Callista's cryptic words. She felt pity for the timid girl. Anna reminded her of her own sister, Su Li.

"Also," Penelope piped helpfully. "Students are not far apart from defending themselves, mainly the upper years. There are more capable duelers than the professors could hope to admit and it will be too much for Pettigrew to handle with so many wands pointing at him."

"I'll say, let him come, Harry is more than enough for him to handle," Sheila proclaimed. All eyes averted to the said person, whose attention was anywhere else but them. "Okay, not him, but I believe I can."

"Is she foolishly brave, or plain stupid?" Barbara whispered.

Sending a fleeting look to her perky friend, a smirk worked its way across Daphne's lips. "As much as it _not_ pains me, Zabini, she's a fool and stupid, not brave. Never forget though, she's touched in the head as well, short on brains and all. I'm still searching for anyone who is charitable enough to donate a brain for her. I think I'll advertise it around the castle for them to know. Do you think I should start handing out the pamphlets soon?"

Sheila glowered them both. "Don't make me point my wand at you two. I know more than a few harmful spells." Her hiss threat did not perturb Daphne the slightest, however, it did stir Barbara into a bit of nervous in the insides.

Callista sidled closer to Harry and gently shook his shoulder. "Harry?"

"Huh?" He ceased from his glaring activity at a handful of males. "What is it?"

"We were- Harry!" Callista snapped her fingers in front of him, irked.

"Sorry…"

"What has gotten to you, Harry?" Regine was worried. "Are you alright?"

"It's just…" Harry halted on what he was about to say, his anger simmered to its heightening point and he snapped at a group of males, "Would you idiots stop doing that?" The males recoiled at Harry's enrage looks and hurried for their sleeping bags. "If I catch you all ogling and drooling at them four like that again, I'll scorch your freaking eyes! And, that goes for whoever looking the rest of the girls in such shameful manner. You too, Birke, and Spum, stop staring Zabini with starry eyes. If you wish to smooch her, go right ahead, no one's restraining you."

Jason's face reddened while Barbara quirked an amuse eyebrow at him, violet eyes twinkled. "Smooth, mate, very smooth."

For Frank, he winced at being caught. "Sorry, captain, it was hard not to." He whistled appreciatively."Boy, those school robes can sure hide things." And, he winced more at the looks from the girls around him. A mild stinging hex from Penelope made their displeasure known.

Jason elbowed him and whispered giddily, "Yeah, it sure is." He yelped after several harmless spell hit him in the back.

"Perverts, the lot of them…" Harry mumbled, scowling.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" bellowed Percy. "Come on now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

"Man, that guy needs to relax. He's so uptight. Even the previous head boy and girl are way better than him. They know the word 'fun'," Frank groused. He flipped his book shut and snuck it under his sleeping bag."It's a sad life for him. There's more in life than following the rules. Life is short, so enjoy yourself as best as you could while it last. Live a little, sheesh. No wonder why he never has any girlfriend and why no one wants to date him."

"His screw is already tight as it is. Even with a screwdriver and oil, there is no way to loosen it, Birke," Harry said.

"What does that mean?" Anna Kowalski's facial was full of curiosity.

"It's a Muggle thing," Callista smiled.

In the meantime, Harry tapped his wand on his sleeping bag, transforming it into a very soft thick comfy mattress, together with conjuring two fluffy pillows and a sheet for him to swathe it around his body.

Daphne inspected the sleeping bag distastefully. "Jonnet, if you don't mind, put that talent of yours to a good use."

"Okay, okay, no need to be grumpy. Give me a second." She contemplated for a while. Afterwards, Sheila swished her wand and Daphne's sleeping bag was replaced to a more comfortable one that fitted to her friend's opulent taste, as well as switching the color from purple to green.

Sheila made some daring adjustment to her own sleeping bag, charming the color purple to red. Two of her other friends stared expectantly at her and Sheila did the same thing to the two of them, earning her smiles of grateful. It was undeniable Sheila's skill in Transfiguration was much more superior compare to her three friends. Identifying this, many of the upper years started modifying their own, much to the head boy's heated protest. It received many envious looks from the lower years. Their magic hasn't quite developed yet and they haven't attained that kind level of skill just yet. This triggered for the lower years to seek their older siblings, or someone they're familiar with, to request altering their sleeping bags into more of comfy one.

"Oh, come on," Harry brashly directed his words to Percy. He rested his body onto his spongy mattress. "It's not like we're breaking the rules. I don't recall the headmaster forbidding us to change the sleeping bags. If you don't like it, you can suck it up and take your complains to the Professors and let's see if they give a damn about it." Wisely, Percy held his tongue, his cheeks flushed in anger. "Stop being such a lousy git, Weasel. You'll be doing us a favor that way. It's admirable for you to perform your head boy duty so seriously, but don't take things too far, git. It will only serve you no good."

"My hero…" Barbara sniffed in the midst of snickers and laughter, wiping the fake tears from her eyes.

The girls, on the other hand, exchanged looks. On Harry's left side, there was an empty space and his right side was already occupied by one of his roommates, Jason Spum. They were waiting for one of them to initiate even the tiniest movement. In split seconds and blurs, they charged for the space like a bull in a rampage. They froze in their haste at perceiving the casualness of Xi Li dumping her transfigured sleeping bag onto the space they desire so much and she laid her body down, not even batting an eye at the four whom were battling for the spot. They were so centered on themselves that they had failed to sense Xi advancing to it.

The four sulked in disappointment, resigning themselves to the vacant spaces next to the Asian girl.

Harry wasn't aware of the byplay, as he removed his shirt, folding it properly. It was after he slipped his black long-sleeve shirt under his fluffy pillow, did he notice the intense silence swimming around the atmosphere. Neither one sound nor a single wisp of whisper detected. Confounded, he surveyed his environment, attempting to locate the source of why people were shushing. There were people craning their necks, hands to their mouths, some stood up and others gawked, lips agape. His cheeks stained in pink due to every pair of eyes trained on him.

"W-What?" he spluttered, shattering the awkwardness. "Why the hell is everyone looking at me like that?"

Girls were blushing madly at the view of his bare upper body, they had a distant look on their face and there were more than a few - mostly Slytherin girls - finding themselves involuntarily licking their lips. Boys were gaping at him, eyes glistened in frank envious, repudiating the reality of a wizard having such wondrous body and like girls, few found themselves raising their shirt to palm their somewhat flabby stomach. This action led to Hogwarts girls eliminating them from the category of being a desirable date.

Hogwarts Quidditch players were more so, as even with all the trainings they had done over the years they were in their Quidditch house team, their body couldn't shape like the similar beautiful structure of Potter's body. There was no denying, they were muscular, taller and slimmer than most blokes in Hogwarts, consequently from their many vigorous training in Quidditch. Still, how in the name of Merlin did Potter own such a body?

Frank broke out of his stupor. Crawling forward, he jostled Jason out of the way and begged Harry, "Is there some sort of magic to do that, captain? Some kind of potion, perhaps? Or- or- I don't know! Tell me your bloody secrets and I swear you, I'll pay you with all the galleons I had! Please, captain! I'm begging you! Or, better yet induct me as your disciple!" Spotting one male shamelessly pleading to him, the other males downed their manly pride and accosted Harry like they were packs of raving dogs, thirst for information.

Harry was flustered at being the center of the attention, freak out by their reaction.

"All of you, get off me! Hey, I said get off! Don't make me do things I'll regret later on!" Harry was lenient enough not to apply violence in the face of the crowd. Thankfully, they were kind - or more precisely scared he'll beat the living daylights out of them - to grant him back his personal space. Harry heaved a sigh. "Now, what in the blazes are you all on about?"

Literally, all of them presented him their best incredulous looks.

"You've got to be kidding me!" squeaked a seventh year girl from a few feet away.

"Don't stick it in our faces, Potter!" Marcus Flint spat, looking full of green in envy and incredibly resentful. "How can a lowly half-blood like you-"

"You take that tone to me again, Flint, and you'll be sorry for insulting me." Intimidated, the Slytherin captain zipped his mouth in an instant, his face was puce in rage. As if on cue, the girls seized the opportunity to reprimand him.

"Harry! Have you no shame at all?" Regine said, face flushing red. Internally, she regretted for not carrying a camera with her all the time. Vividly, she remembered about a very rare device called a Pensive. Could her parents obtain such thing and hand it to her as a gift for her birthday, or Christmas?

"Huh?" was his eloquent answer.

"Put something on! Why- why are you- oh…" Eyeballing his body for the umpteenth time, Callista's face went to a whole new shade of red. However, she did not detach her eyes from his body, mesmerized and was memorizing every detail of it. She did have a brilliant mind, so why not put it to an excellent use, right?

"What she meant to say is why are you not wearing your shirt?!" Daphne hissed, hue of red on her cheeks and she was more cross that the other girls had gotten to witness his body. The sole lady, who ought to have the privilege of setting her gaze on his body, should have been her and no one else. Yes, she was very possessive of her constant male companion.

"As of late, meaning since last year Christmas, I develop a habit of sleeping without a shirt on. I don't know why, but I prefer it this way."

"I wonder if I have the same type of body too." Amongst her best friends and probably out of all girls in Hogwarts, she was the most energetic as well as having done lots of exercise in her life. It's just who and how she is. Totally ignoring the set of blushes on her cheeks induced from gazing Harry's upper body, Sheila was just on her way to lift her night dress.

"Sheila!" Three of her best friends hustled to shield their friend's modesty and they blew a relief sigh at managing so. Most males found themselves to be disappointed by this. Daphne glared her admonishingly and didn't think twice in whacking Sheila on the back of her head. Sheila, for once, didn't react in equal manner or get irate. Instead, she was abashed and smiled sheepishly for not reflecting the many people around her.

Barbara's eyes were clouded in haze. She could assertively acclaim that Potter had grown in comparison to the last time she snuck a peek on his attractive body. Hell, it outshined the incident of her and her two mates slinked into Quidditch locker room to check out Potter's well-built body as he was showering. That event was well past in their third years. Leaning forward to touch him, her face was now in delirious state. It ended in failure and her reward for her action was a glare, counseling her to not try it for the second time. Barbara cursed her friend, Daphne, for blocking her. Why can't Greengrass just attend to her Gryffindor friend and leave her bloody alone?

"Mate, d-did you- uh- get this-" Jason motioned his hand to Harry's body. "-from being a professional Quidditch player? What did they do to you, mate? They must have done something! Bloody hell, just look at you!" he exclaimed. He was still working on believing it. "It has to be a potion! Dear Merlin, there's no other explanation to it!" Jason shook her head to organize his chaotic tangle of thoughts. "You can tell me, we're buddies after all. Might be some kind of potion they forced you to drink so it could aid you against the more brute players, am I right?"

"Is this what the fuss is all about?"

Harry's eyes traced to the tone muscles of his slender body, from his collarbones, the blade of his shoulders, his elbows, his arms, his chests and then, down to his stomach, shaping the v-shape figure. He noted the pack of six muscles on his stomach had already sculpted perfectly, unlike last year where it was simply in the process of nearly formed. Hmm, he mused silently, he may had been overexerting himself in training with the old man and the excessive nine hours Quidditch training each day during the last two summers, can also be accountable for molding his body finely. His growth helped a lot too. Though, the old man was largely to be blame for. Nonetheless, his hard work had paid off in the end.

"For the record, Spum, the answer you're looking for is no. Can you honestly imagine a potion does this kind of thing?" He let loose a very hearty chuckle. "Bugger, no. No matter how many potions you take, there is no way it can. Potion has its limit as is magic, and so does other things in this world. I never used any kind of magic nor potion to make it so. Incidentally, it took me a very long time to cultivate my body into like this. If any of you must know, I have done certain exercises in my private time and let's just say after doing it for years, this is the outcome of it. In other words, I've been doing it the natural way to attain it."

"Can- can I join you in one of your exercise, captain?"

"Birke, I have been doing those _exercises_ for years, long before I came to Hogwarts. I don't think you can achieve it quickly even if you devote your entire summer," Harry said dryly. "Partly, I can lay the blame on the trainings I've done with the Puddlemere during the last two summers. It was quite extreme and exaggerating in comparison to the trainings we did."

"The other part?" Jason pressed.

Straight away, thoughts of the old man floated to his forefront mind. Harry flinched in reviewing the memories of the harsh trainings he had endured in the company of the old man. "Trust me on this, you don't want to know."

"But-" Frank began.

"No," Harry interjected a bit too quickly for his liking. "No more. You know what? Drop it. I don't even have the slightest clue as to why I'm quenching everyone's curiosity," he grunted, pulling up the thick and warm blanket over his body."Good god, it feels like I'm being hounded for information on the subject of my physique by boys who preferred in the company of their own gender instead of young women."

Roughly just about all boys felt their face burning hot and it worsened when Xi barked in laughter at Harry's words.

Percy's face was deluged in red, and it was unlikely in embarrassment but rather furious. By this point, he had dozens of reason and another one to add in being jealous of Harry. He vented it out by shouting to the horde of students, "The lights are going out now! I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!" The floating candles were doused at once.

"I'm on a mattress and not in my sleeping bag, does that mean his order isn't strictly apply to me? Seriously, if Pettigrew do barge into the Great Hall, and there would be an annoying girlish-like screech - no offense to the females -, I gamble every of my possessions I had on him. You can count on that," Harry's eyes twinkled. The enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky, was scattered with countless stars. Suppress giggles from every side, rang out, mostly from the females. Percy pretended to never heard Harry.

Once an hour and a half crept by, the snores suggested most students had fallen to deep slumber. Ron Weasley was the loudest and fortunately, the head boy had the graciousness to flick a silencing charm on his brother so not to disrupt the others. Percy, who had been prowling around, rebuking people for talking, steered clear of crossing the path of Harry's sleeping place as if he was a plague to avoid. Thus, Harry was left serenely alone to cogitate in his thoughts.

"Potter- um Harry…"

Harry rotated to his left side, to the source of the small voice, grateful for the brief distraction. His thoughts were far from pleasant. It frequently kept revisiting to the Dementors, the old man, his ancestor, the mystery thing he inherited from his ancestor, plus a bunch of other stuff that he fancy putting all of it behind him. Sadly, normality never fitted him. "I didn't know we're on first name basis, Li. May I have the permission to do the same thing to you?"

Xi, who had been pretending to be asleep, viciously retorted, "What? I can't call you by your given name?"

"Temper, temper, Li. You don't want to wake people up," he teased. "I was only kidding. No need to get rile up over it."

"Right, err, sorry…" Her face reddened slightly for being so close to his face. "I've been meaning to ask you earlier on. Just didn't get the opportunity since so many people crowded you. So…"

"Go on," Harry urged.

"Have you been practicing and delving in the form of martial arts?"

Harry blinked owlishly. "I never thought a person from a magical community could even comprehend the term of 'martial arts'. Normally, they refer it as hand to hand combat."

"Oh, believe me, you'll find there is a magical population dabble in such thing and serve it as their practitioner of everyday life." She flashed him a smile. "So, I'm right. Are you good at it?"

"Not really." Harry shrugged. "I just nicked it here and there, you know, for protection. It was how I got to be in a professional Quidditch club. My reflexes in dodging those bludgers and my endurance assisted me far more than I imagine. Me being natural on a broom did the rest."

"You're selling yourself short, Pott- Harry…" Her eyes softened considerably. "Or, the rumors about you beating up the upper years in your first year were not true at all? I may add, you did it without a wand too. That's quite a magnificent feat for an eleven year old. Oh, did I include in skillfully hurling Lockhart to his desk?"

"You do know, I spent nearly three full weeks in the infirmary to recover my injuries and I tell you, it was no fun, patching up those bones, or healing those bruises. It was one hell of ordeal to me. Not to mention, I had two months detention from instigating the entire thing. And, the thing with Lockhart? He's a fraud and idiot to boot so that's that," Harry said. "In any case, how did you know I was practicing it? What gave away?"

"Initially, I had my suspicion from the grapevine circulated in the castle on your first year. But after witnessing your body, well, it proved the whole thing."

"Oh, do you now…" The large grin threatened to split Harry's face. "Tell me, Li. Which part of my body did confirm it all? I'm curious… Did you spend every second ogling it? Do you want to see it now? I can give you a personal show if you wish…"

"W-What!" she said in low tone, flustered and loss of words. "I- You- I-I me-ean your body…"

Her eyes wandered down, and as soon as she became conscious of what she was doing, her eyes darted back up. The person, whom she had boldly ogled, was unmistakably amused. Her face smoldered in a nice shade of crimson, the glow of her blush not only enveloped her entire face, but was also seeping down her neck. In a face pace, she scrambled to turn her body around, to her other side, her back facing him. The chuckles he emitted did nothing to lessen her hot face, it simply discomfited her to an extent. She hauled her blanket over her head, hiding herself from the world's view. When the picture of his expose upper body drifted to mind, it educed a small smile on her lips.

That night, half of the girls in the Great Hall experienced a similar thing like Xi, and the other half was subjected to a wonderful dream about Harry Potter. Unpredictably, Harry suffered an eerie chill in his spine and sat upright to look around, wondering where it came from. Coming across none of the oddity aside from students sleeping, his eyebrows knitted together, mystified. He shrugged indifferently and plopped back down, willingly closing his eyes to consent the tiredness and the darkness to dominate his conscious.

* * *

><p>In the place of bright and beautiful shining emerald eyes, it was swapped by a weary impassive look of being haunted after surviving countless battles.<p>

_Harry turned in his sleep, beads of sweat trickled down his face…_

Harry felt his bright striking emerald eyes diverted its sight to where a young regal handsome looking man was standing tall. The blond young man held himself proud, strong, brave, powerful and every bit of noble quantities you can expect from a kingly man. The sword he brought alongside him was exuding a very massive aura. It was apparent to everyone that it would be folly for anyone to duel him in a deadly combat. In spite of the young man not radiating any aura to illustrate how powerful he was - unlike his sword, every person's intuition in the area was screeching for them to neither engage the young man in a fight nor ignite his wrath. They had a feeling that the young blond man doesn't truly require his sword to trounce them. His bare hands were more than enough.

_Who is he? Such frightening person…_

On the blond man's right side, a familiar looking man, was now the centre of Harry's emerald eyes. Underneath the curtains of his lustrous raven-haired, it was a young man with features of pale complexion, the twinkles in which one can imagine in the young man's cerulean eyes were not present. Young he may be, not a single person was fool by his appearance and age. Those cerulean eyes of his spoke volume of wisdom, wordlessly cautioning the people not to insult his intelligence or any of his counsel. His cerulean eyes recounted of how he had seen far too many things in this world, experienced in many situations, and most of those things were never pleasant. It was sufficient to damage one's mentality.

_Is…Is that the old man? He looks so young…_

Harry's emerald eyes scouted his surroundings and there were more than a thousand knights stood in attention, their body straightened in attention to await further orders from their king. There were other knights clad in an entirely dissimilar garb, denoting for them to be in a much higher rank than the many knights stood around them. Harry gazed down at a ruddy-faced man, light white beard, long white neat straight hair cascading down, pasty skin tone, broad shoulders and lanky body, as well as shallow russet eyes that were swirling in depth amount of magic. With no qualms, the man was both dangerous and powerful, never to cross in his path if one could help it. Hundreds of archers above the rafters were ready to strike him down if he was so much as twitching.

_Who are they? More importantly, where is this place? How did he get here? _

The man was stooping down to his two knees. He was bound by many chains wrapped tightly around his body. It was not the ordinary dull looking chain where you shackle prisoners. No, these chains were more ethereal, far from the ordinary ones. While, it's in black color - akin to the normal chain, these manacles were more aided with a touch of glowing lime in color. It was evident the offender was put in a high level spell, thwarting any of his movements. A burst of magic had the knights on the edge, their hands instinctively jerked for their sheathed weapon to their side. The man thrashed about many times, raging to break free from such spell, but it was futile for him. Burst of magic after magic, yet the glow-like chains did not shatter.

_Why does the person look so… familiar? It feels as if they have recently met before, but he cannot recall the man in his life…_

Harry lifted his right hand, pointing it to the direction of the offender. He, then, articulated in a tongue he recognized it to be a language not found in the modern world. Harry did not grasp what on earth he was saying. He realized it then, it was a spell, an incantation was what he was uttering. Moreover, he was coming to a realization that he had no control, whatsoever, on his body and probably, never had been. Tingles and a sudden flow of magic had his emerald eyes glowed in the color of pure gold. Small gold magic circle sketched in the air, appearing out of nowhere on his hand. Several more ethereal chains emerged from the circle and like tentacles, whizzed to enfold more securely around the man.

_He couldn't remember having such powerful spell in his arsenal…_

Harry wasn't contented with just the chains though. Without wasting anytime, he put the palm of his hands together and another magic circle emerged on the ground where the man was, light blue rays erupted around the man, creating a small dome-like at the size of the man. The people attended, could distinguish that there was an invisible weight of mass crushing down his body, coercing the man's entire body to fully sink down to the ground. It was as if the gravity around the man augmented radically. Screaming in fury and anguish, the man's dark russet eyes took a shade of gold, similar to Harry's. Tremors shook the ground. Ultimately, the screams had come to its conclusion, along with the tremors. The man had a defeated beaten look, his shoulders slumped and head bowed in despair.

_Is he always that ruthless? It looks like he wanted the man to bow before him…_

Shouts of rage from Harry's right side, had Harry relocated his attention to it. The young blond man had his fingers enclosed elegantly around the hilt of his sword, glaring down the man for his insolence and was preparing to strike the traitor down. One slash was all the blond man needed. One slash would split him in half and splintered the man's remains to the ground. Harry saw the raven-haired man advising the blond man to not and to reign in his rage. The blond man scathingly argued he was the king, as such the fate of the traitors should have fallen to his hands. A traitor, that's who the man was. The rest of his ilk was confined to their island, surrounded by another of the king's army, around the border of their island. They only captured their leader and brought him forth to be judge for his sin. How Harry knew of this information, he had no idea.

_Why does this feel familiar? Haven't he heard it in a story?_

Harry drew nearer to the king and voiced his agreement in the king's words. Every of the traitors' fate shall be judge by the king. If it so the king's desire, by death or exile, it will be the king's decision. Harry had other ideas though. Leaning closer to the king, Harry notified him of the traitors' magical oath they had sworn long ago. Now, they had breached their oath to not fight to the king's aid and to not arrive at the king's summon, fled when the king's need was dire, their magic shall now be in the king's hands, whether for the king to curse them to fulfill their pledge, never to rest until it's carried out or to curse them to their ruin. Their magic shall see to it.

_Is this a dream? Or…a memory?_

"Only say it and it shall be done, you hold the power over them now…" Harry found his mouth moving on its own accord. "Unlike the normal oath knights had sworn to you, magical ones are very diverse from the knight's oath. Magic is their salvation, but also their means of end. It can be traitorous and their magic shall hold to their oath. An oath they have failed to uphold. Do not give them the mercy of death. It will be too merciful. Curse them to suffer."

"You would have us deny the mercy of death?" From the ground, the man's russet eyes glared disdainfully.

"Be silent, you witless worm. Keep your fork tongue behind your fangs. You should have pondered on that, before you and your miserable pathetic ilk swore to such oath. Your arrogance was the one that brought you to your heel and now, it shall be your demise."

"It would be too cruel if the king chose not to condemn them to death. Such curse is vindictive, even for them…"

"No more than they deserve, Emrys," was Harry's terse reply. "Every innocent blood that had splattered, every each one of our brother that had fallen, friends and family members sacrificing themselves in favor for the others to live, shall not have their death to be meaningless. Their death can be laid on every of the traitors' feet! And, I will not let death be the traitors' fate for it would be too forgiving for the likes of them! More wars are now brewing in every corner of the land, and the fault was all on them! We had the chance to end the raging wars in the last great battle! But now…it will prolong further to who knows how many years and perhaps, the war will never end…"

"Too much blood has already been spilled. Enough is enough. We do not have the right to consider what their punishment it should be. Let it be their next adventure that will judge their sins and not in this life. The afterlife will not be so compassionate to the likes of traitors and death will only be the beginning of their torment."

"Listen to yourself, Emrys… You would be so quick to condemn them to death when you, yourself, spoke of enough blood that has already been spilled. You are contradicting yourself." Harry smiled grimly. "By cursing them to suffer the pain of the lives that had been passed on from this world, their blood will never be spilled, only torture shall stand by their side as their only companion. Pain is, in any way, the best method to amend our blunders."

"Or fuel the desire of revenge and hatred." The raven-haired man made to say something more. The blond, though, cut him off in his deep rich voice.

"Enough, Merlin…" he said. "The decision is in my hand and I am inclined to concur with our friend here."

"Arthur, listen to reason," the raven-haired pleaded. "If you intend to place them under such curse, it will not only haunt you, but the world will have to go through it as well. Other people should not have suffered in the face of our decisions- of the consequences of our mistakes. Nobody should have held one's fate, even if you are a king and they are the lowest form of scum. Such kind of power ought to not have been in the palms of anyone's hands, regardless of who the person is. No humans are worthy to ascertain what is right and what is wrong, who should die and who should live. Those things are best to leave on the divinity who created all of this, the world, magic, living things and such. Wars have converted us into the monster we have become. Our hands are dripping and gushing with the blood we spilled in the past… But, every each one of us have faith in different beliefs and that, itself, is what makes us human, what separate us from being inhuman and not shred the bits of our humanity, because we fight for something we believe in."

"And, for that very reason is why I had chosen you to be my advisor and my right hand man, guiding me when the path I stamp on went astray and show me the true path…" The king's stony face mitigated a little. "However, there are times you cannot persuade me and no matter how hard you endeavor, it will not do any good in changing certain decisions of mine that I had come to make. You know me far better than anyone here, old friend, that I am stubborn as it is I am determined."

"Furthermore, Emrys, they do not believe in anything," Harry butted in."They fight for no one aside for themselves. Murderers, they are, and traitorous, their nature. While I may not agree in many things with King Uther… the traitors, nonetheless, should have been eliminated in his Great Purge. Being sympathetic towards them is useless and a waste."

"I…"

"Enough!" By utilizing the full capabilities of his magic, the man struggled to elevate his body high and proud even if he was under the pressure of the invisible weight. "We do not need your pity or any of your merciful nature, Myrddin Emrys, son of the Dragonlord. We do not regret the path we chose to walk on. The only regrets we have are swearing that blasted oath and for every one of you to not fall in the last great battle. None of you should have live to see the next day. We will take any punishment you wish to befall on us. Do what you must, oh great king of Camelot, bearer to the most powerful and mighty sword of the world, Excalibur."

"Very well, your wish shall I granted…" The king gnashed his teeth in near unrestrained rage. "Let it be known, from this day onwards! That, the traitors who had fled the battle with such cowardice, failed to arrive to the king's summon, forsaken the many lives that had been robbed in the battlefield, refused to come to the king's aid and when our need was in dire… shall be curse, to never…" At each of the king's dreaded words on cursing the traitors, the sky was no more bright and blue. It steadily turned blacker, darker, and large storm was brewing above, with the wind eerily blowing towards the storm. Thunderstorm deafened, lightning was wildly uncontrollable, yet there was no heavy rain pouring down.

Once the king concluded in cursing them, an unforeseen event transpired. The man's body convulsed erratically and his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the instantaneous effect of the king's curse. His skin gradually decayed, began to sunk, shrunken and bony. Tossing his head aback, small wisp of black cloud ousted and poured out of his mouth. Several dark spots blotched on his face. The spots started in a small size, before it became larger, bigger and it spread across his face. Thunderstorm boomed across the dark clouds. Notwithstanding the horrifying changes that had undergone on him, the man grinned maliciously, teeth no longer white and pearly.

"Be gone, you worm," The king unsheathed his sword and plunged the tip of it to the ground. Consequently, there was a large crack on the ground and there was a thundering sound crackled in the area. "Return to your island and linger there until you are nothing but a lost world to us. For as long as I draw my breath, you will not trouble anyone."

"Great King Arthur, I knew, I feel it and I can sense it, that even with my newfound ability, I would not be a match nor am I a true opponent for you. You may not have an ounce of magic in you, but there is no refuting that you are indeed a powerful man. Therefore, your death shall not be in my hands, but rather by someone else. Yes, I can predict the outcome of your future already. Heed my warning, mighty king, that on the day you venture into one of your expedition- the day that your foot step out of your land, is the day your doom looms over you…" His voice turned hoarse by the minute. "You will find that treachery does not end here and it will run deeper than you have imagined… What sacrifice you have done, the many battles you conquer and the victories you achieve, they will mean nothing in the coming future… Oh, you will have your peace, yet the peace you are so keen on, will not last long…" The man barked laughter, his appearance took more of daunting manifestation. "Wars will never have its conclusion, it will persist and only in an age where humanity no longer exists, then will death shall be no more… There will always be death as there will always be killing… All humans are slaves to war and war, itself, is the province of all mankind!"

The man rounded his attention to the raven-haired man, a craze look on his face, and foams simmered on his mouth. "By showing me your mercy, I shall never forget the humiliation you have brought upon me this day, Emrys! Instead of treating me with honor and not mercy, you were more willing for me to face the world in full of shame!"

Gaze squarely resting on Harry, the shallow russet eyes of his was gone, as darkness, bit by bit, began to creep and shroud his wide eye sockets. Admittedly, it was the most disturbing thing and with the creepy grin on the man's face, it was very sickening to watch such transformation. "You may have considered this a victory and a sweet punishment for our sins, but you are wrong on both sides! This is nothing short of blessing, and now I shall live long enough for me to have my vengeance! Your death may not be in our hands, but your bloodline shall suffer in your place! King Camelot may be the one to enact the curse upon us, but the true perpetrator behind it is you! I will have my vengeance one way or another!"

As if it was hilarious, he let loose a full blown laughter and, little by little, every part of his now ruin and bony body was sucked into the storm, breaking through the high spells he was in. In a blink of an eye, his body vanished from everyone's spectacle and the storm dispersed. His maniacal laughter, though, lingered. "Mark my words, vengeance shall be mine! My heart will never be content unless I bath in his blood and devour his soul! If not him, then one of his bloodline shall fill in his place! The time will come where I shall have the last laugh!"

* * *

><p>"Harry! HARRY!"<p>

Harry awoke with a startle, his eyes snapped open. Every inch of his body was enveloped in icy sweat. He lay flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had been running for miles and miles away. Voices, several of them, were desperately calling out his name. The twisting queasy somersault in his stomach rose up to his throat. He quickly sat upright. He slanted his body forward and promptly vomited on the blanket covering his lower region of body. Left hand gripped the blanket and his right hand was clutching his chest. He gasped in great gulps of sweet air.

Harry was practically blinded by the splitting headache he was currently in.

A smooth calming hand touched his cheek and a handkerchief wiped his mouth. Another person's hands snatched his right hand, rubbing it with both hands in an attempt to soothe his wrecking nerves. His view was still blurred and distorted. Once it was lucid for him to see, the first thing he noted was the blood in front of him, on the blanket. Damn. When was the last time did he vomit so much blood? If things kept on looking bleak, by the end of it, he won't have any blood left for him to cough out.

"Harry, are you alright? Should we get Madam Pomfrey or something?" His droopy eyes veered to Regine's concern panicky face. Tenderly, she dabbed her handkerchief over his forehead. "You're not well. I- I think we should get somebody…Girls?"

"Then don't just hang there, looking like a bunch of useless ingrates, and wait for me to curse you all! Jonnet, you're the fastest, go wake Pomfrey and inform her of the current shape he's in. The rest of us will facilitate things in bringing him to the infirmary. We know how much he hates being levitated." If he was not in such hazy state, Harry would have chuckled at Daphne's dishevel appearance. Her glares were not very frightening as it normally were. All traces of her elegance were gone. It was substituted by the looks of deep concern for him, and coupled from her having been abruptly awakened.

"No…" Sheila was about to release Harry's right hand, but he seized hold of her hands and dragged her back down. "It's fine… I just had a… nightmare… That's all… there is…" He tried to systemize his breathing, back to its regular pace. "Just give me a minute… to rid… this stupid… headache…"

"How can you say such things when the condition you're in is terrible?" Callista was looking alarm, a Muggle jacket was idly slung over her shoulders without her putting it on. "You're throwing up blood and it's quite a lot. And by how much sweat it gives you, you are far from alright, Harry…" She placed one of her smooth hand to his chest, where his heart is. "Your heart rate is beating abnormally, very irregular than a normal beating. Your pulse too… It's like some appalling thing frightens you." She rested the back of her hand on his forehead. "This is disquieting…"

Harry let go of Sheila's hands and grasped Callista's in return, soothing her. "Callista, it's fine, really… Just an awful nightmare…"

"What kind of nightmare that causes people to vomit blood?" The voice was on the edge of shrieking. "No, you're heading for the infirmary, Mister. We don't care if you have any complaints later but right now, you have to suck it all up!"

Harry groaned. He almost forgot he had to deal all four of them. "Sheila…"

"Hush it, Potter!" Daphne barked. "You're coming with us and you're not going to whine. This is not up for argument, do you understand?"

Harry coughed all too sudden. "Harry!" The girls enclosed him more personally. Daphne looked stricken for shouting at him.

"That'd settle it!" Regine approached to get him on his two feet. "I don't care if he won't talk to me after this! Let us all go! Look at him, he's really ill!"

That did it, all of them stepped in to assist him and Harry had enough. "Girls!" In his time with them, he seldom raised his voice wittingly and this was indubitably one of the few times. All four jumped and froze at his furious annoyed looks. "I'm fine, really… I told you, I only need to catch a breath. See, I'm fine now…" He inhaled one last deep breath."It was just a nightmare, nothing more. So let's not trouble anyone, okay? I hate hanging around in the infirmary anyway. Throughout my Hogwarts life, I spent too much time in there already. Madam Pomfrey considered once, on assigning a bed under my name," Harry caringly softened his voice.

"If- If you're sure, Harry…" Regine hesitantly voiced out, her concern wasn't diminishing in the smallest amount.

"I am, Regine, I am…" Harry smiled comfortingly. He had to get out of here and he's in desperate need for some air. "What time is it?" In spite of his bleary eyes, he wasn't blind to notice the uncertain glances they traded amongst themselves. "Girls, truly, I'm all right now, it's just a nightmare."

"Okay…" Sheila said in a subdued manner, eyes darting to the blood from time to time.

"Potter." A voice behind him. "If you badly want to know the time, it's still early in the morning, no more than half past five now."

Harry flung a momentary gaze over his shoulder. "Li? Didn't see you there…"

"Yeah, well… When the person sleeping next to you was thrashing about and not to mention what with them shouting out for you, it was hard not to be awaken from it." She tried to be snotty and vex about it, but found she couldn't. Her voice dropped to kindness and worry. "A-Are…Are you alright, Potter? I- I figured I should've stay out of your friends way, thinking they have handled this sort of thing before."

"For the who-knows-how-many-times, yes, I'm fine."

Awkward silence ensued. The five teenage girls around him squirmed uncomfortably, all were sharing glances and looks.

"It's a good thing Xi was wide awake, Harry. She put a privacy ward along with a silencing charm around us. We were too centered and more worried of the condition you're in to contemplate on it," Callista spoke out of the blue, sheepish looks on her face for not thinking it.

"A very good thing," Daphne muttered from her spot, her light green eyes flashed in a hint of concern. "She was generous enough to inspect the people who had been awakened from our small ruckus and charmed them back into a deep slumber, ensuring no nasty rumors spread around the castle." She, then, stubbornly mumbled, "You didn't appear to be in a good health a short time ago."

"Look, I'm not going to repeat myself, so I'm going to say this one more time. I'm fine, alright? It's just a ridiculous dream…" Harry sighed. He tugged his folded shirt from under the fluffy pillow and put it on. "Thanks for being so thoughtful, Li." His comment won him a blush on her face. "Anyhow, what do you mean by 'them shouting out for me'? I mean, by looking it through sensible way, shouldn't you be the first person to wake up?"

Harry spared a glance to his right side and was relief to stumble on his roommate snoring peacefully, glad he doesn't have to deal another person.

"Don't know." Her short messy hair was more chaotic than ever from her sleep. "Really though, by the time I woke up, they were already flitting around you. It seemed like they've been struggling to reach you out for quite a while."

"Yeah, and you didn't even budge, Harry," Sheila said. "We're desperate enough to shake you roughly, but you still won't come around. Frankly, it scared the devil out of us."

Xi wasn't listening to Sheila. She was in deep thought. "Now that Potter mentioned it, he does have a point. How come all of you were already by his sides when even I have yet to open my eyes? Shouldn't I be the first one to be awakened from his 'seizure'? Or Jason? He's also sleeping beside Potter and apparently, he still is." Landing her eyes on a drool sleeping face of Jason Spum, she wrinkled her nose.

"Point very much taken…" Callista was brooding over Xi's words. "Do you have any idea why, Daphne?"

"How should I know any better?" Daphne groused. "I felt it when it came clobbering down on me and before I knew it, I opened my eyes without feeling any of the drowsiness that I usually have to endure after my beauty sleep." She cast an uncertain glance to Harry. "I knew it had something to do with Potter and I grew anxious of him. My concern became apparent once I saw the terrible state he was in. Am I correct to assume you three experienced a similar thing?"

Sheila and Callista bobbed their head. "I guess it's sort of normal since the four of you are very close to him…" Xi commented absentmindedly.

"Of course, I'm the closest to Harry. How can you even suggest other people?"

Daphne glared her. "Dream on, Jonnet. She was implying me, not you."

"I am not going to dispute again over who is the closest and who is the least of all," Callista exasperatedly proclaimed. Face pinked, she looked away. "I made my point very clear the last time that I am closest to him out of the four of us, so it's no used wasting my breath on such a hopeless debate."

"Um, Callista?" Xi whispered. "You're speaking to yourself again."

"Wa- Was I?" she stammered, averting her eyes from her two friends' glares. "I- I didn't realize."

Regine wasn't paying any heed to them, still fretting over Harry. In about the right time, Harry seized Regine's soft delicate hand and obstructed her from wiping anymore of the sweats that trickled down his face. Smiling in reassurance to her, he willed his body to his two feet, patting his left trouser's pocket to confirm his wand was still there. "Where are you going now, Harry?" Regine's question had the other girls' interest.

"Outside, not far, just by the courtyard across the Great Hall." Harry slithered his way to the entrance doors. "I am in dire need of some fresh air and at this point of hour, the cool air should be refreshing."

"Alright, Potter…" Daphne said, tinge of softness in her tone. "Do you wish for some companion?"

"No, thank you, I fancy some time by myself…"

The instant the entrance door creaked shut, Xi spoke incredulously, "You all are going to let him walk out? Just like that?"

"As much as any of us desire to accompany him, Xi, we can't. It's simply his nature in being solitude," Callista explained to her friend.

"If Harry wants to spend time alone, no one's going to have any luck persuading him out of it," Regine coincided reluctantly.

"Yeah, you should've seen how hard it was for us to get him to open up. It took us a long time convincing him too," Sheila said. "Besides, he'll get angry if any of us try to go after him. No way am I risking that again."

* * *

><p>The musical sound of bird twittering nearby, the gusts of wind wafting ever so lightly, the ruffling noise of grass and the smell of fresh air in the early morning, it was invigorating. It was so much better to be loitering alone in the large overcast courtyard than suffocating himself in the Great Hall with hundreds of student. Though, the cold breeze air chilled his skin, Harry welcomed it. That dream of his was creepy as hell. It gave him the impression of being so real, like he was there, witnessing and experiencing the whole thing.<p>

He propped his back against the large wall.

Was it a memory? It resembled a memory. If it so, it agitated him. The event transpired before he was even born to this world, so how was he able to dream of it. He cannot convey it by means of words, much less detailing it. It felt like he was there, doing those things, yet at the same time, he was not. It was infuriatingly baffling and it frustrated him to no end. The dream- no, the memory belonged to his ancestor wherein Harry could now grudgingly attest to his existence in the past and the old man, whom was not so old at the time, genuinely befriended his ancestor.

Pushing himself from the wall, Harry paced back to fro.

His ancestor, who was ruthless and unmerciful, who was responsible for cursing the traitors into the monstrous creature they have convert into, and lastly, who was to be blame for in placing a death sentence on Harry. The sound of teeth gritting in anger echoed across the yard. Great, just what he needed, mistakes done by the people in the past and now, it haunted his steps. Merlin had been the sensible one to see the repercussion of such curse and even so, it was weak and irresolute effort on his part. Harry halted in his pacing and whirled around. He didn't waste any time punching the wall to liberate some of his steam, not repressing his strength. The redness and the throbbing soreness he inflicted upon his hand, he disregarded it.

This is ludicrous and unfair.

Harry had nothing to do with the curse, nor was he accountable for his ancestor's actions. He shook his head. No, what done is done. There's no point in getting furious over it even if his ancestor was a blockheaded fool. On the bright side of things, he had come to understand their true origins in a more personal matter. Yes, the old man had recounted the story to him, nonetheless, it was better for him to perceive it with his own two eyes, albeit in a dream. On the worst and horror side of things, the Dementors were hell bent on terminating his life, uncaring and heartless whether their cruel fate was originally caused by his ancestor and not Harry's fault.

Who's he to question their way of revenge and sanity anyway?

It was akin to Lady Morgana desiring King Arthur's head for what their father had done and not Arthur. It's what people love to do. A sacrifice lamb to lay the blame on for other people's mistake and in this circumstance, the lamb was unquestionably Harry. They only require one and not the whole set of Potter family. Moreover, taking into consideration of Harry inherited something from his ancestor and he was the sole human in the modern world who had a connection to the ancient world, he was the perfect candidate. Not only to eradicate the person who possessed the knowledge of the ancient world and the truth about the world, but also to fulfill their vengeance on his ancestor. Killing two birds with one stone. Yes, no pressure…

Harry's body stiffened as he realized something was frighteningly amiss and eerie. He was too deep in his thoughts to notice it.

There were no bloody sounds, no wind howling, the rustling sound of grass ceased, the splashing sound of water from the lake and the singing from the birds were unheard, not even the warm presence of the nature. Cold chill ran his spine and Harry swallowed his swollen throat. Slowly and bravely, he twisted his head to the front. He didn't know if he'd be relief or terrified. There, up on the sky, beyond the ground of Hogwarts, soared the white Dementor. He was relief to locate the Dementor was far away from him, yet he was terrified by its mere presence.

The dream he experienced a while ago, flooded to his mind. Harry recalled perfectly how powerful the white Dementor was back when it was in its human form. Now Harry got a second look on him, its white cloak can be regarded as its entire human white hair. He snapped from his muse, his ears grasped the sinister voice, murmuring, droning and buzzing. Deep unearthly low voice that gradually became louder, clearer and much colder. It was verbalizing its displeasure in a tongue not known to the present world. Harry had an idea on what the hell is going on. The Dementor was casting a spell on him. What it is, he had no idea. On top of it, it felt as if Harry's vision of the Dementor was getting larger and larger until the Dementor, itself, was the only thing remained on his sight.

He commanded his legs to move, to return him to the castle, but it was utterly immobilized. The minute the Dementor finished the incantation, the effect occurred in an instant. "Guh!" Harry descended to his two knees as a sharp pain clouted him. Both hands stomped to the ground, supporting him from falling forward. Harry looked down to his chests, face contorted to pain. Leaning forward, his right hand clasped over his heart. The ancient rune where Merlin carved it on the left side of his chest, was starting to take shape and discernible for people's eyes, glowing vividly in its white color. It was burning as though a white hot-poker was being applied to it. Shortly, the pain and the rune, itself, waned away, disintegrated into nothingness.

Breathing heavily, Harry was stunned, too tongue-tied to form words. There was a sinking feeling in the pits of his stomach. The rune had vanished! The thing, that was locking his emotions from flowing freely and controlling his excessive magic from leaking, had up and gone. Looking up, the white Dementor faded away from Harry's view. Harry wobbled up to his feet, clinging over the wall behind him. He shook his head and regained his composure. Still a bit ashen on the face, he cleaned the sweat off his face. Briskly, he entered the castle, reeking fear in his wake. The white Dementor was dispatching a message and it said, it was coming for Harry, sooner or later.

He needs the old man, bad. And, what better way to do so by visiting him in the coming winter? Harry could only hope to restrain himself until then.


End file.
